How the World Turns
by Kirsten Erin
Summary: More Than Blood Series: Pt2. Someone's gunning for Jack's position as head of the newsies &he's not afraid to spill blood to get it. When David & Al become the target of a vicious attack, the stakes are higher than they've ever been. Jack/Sarah. David/OC.
1. The Greatest

_**Full Summary: It's been two years since the strike and trouble is brewing again on the streets of Manhattan. Someone's gunning for Jack's position as head of the newsies and he's not afraid to spill blood to get it. When David and Al become the target of a vicious attack, the stakes are higher than they've ever been and Jack's determined to end it before someone gets killed. Jack/Sarah. David/OC.**_

_**Author's Note: Sorry this took so long, y'all! I know you've been waiting for forever to read this (at least, it felt like forever to me). For those of you who didn't see the news on my profile, my old computer croaked and my uncle had to retrieve all my files, which basically took forever and a day. But thanks to him, I finally got it today. So without further ado, here's the first chapter of How the World Turns, the sequel to We Run the Papes!**_

**Chapter 1- The Greatest**

_January's goin' fast _

_February almost certainly will not last _

_Wake me next year _

_What is, what was, what will be _

_~Evermore: The Fold~_

_Manhattan ~ September 23, 1901_

Les tore into his presents with all the excitement required of a boy on his eleventh birthday. His dark brown eyes sparkled with each new unwrapped discovery. A new white and pinstripe newsboys cap from Sarah, a pair of new shoes from his parents, a baseball from David, a slingshot from Al, and a good bag full of shooters from Jack and Runner. He grinned at each of the givers in turn.

Al sat back and grinned as Runner whispered into Les's ear and pointed discreetly at Jack, who had his back turned while he spoke to Sarah and her mother. A mischievous smile spread across the Jacobs boy's face and Al elbowed David so he wouldn't miss whatever was about to happen. Les didn't disappoint.

Seconds later, one of the shooters had connected with the back of Jack's neck and the two younger boys were screaming with laughter. It only took them a few seconds to realize their need to run as Jack turned around slowly before pursuing the two with a vengeance while Mrs. Jacobs yelled at Les for using the slingshot indoors, even while he was being chased by the Manhattan newsie leader.

David was in stitches on the couch beside Al, hooting and hollering for whoever seemed to have the advantage. He tripped Jack as the older boy doubled back, which only made his laughter worse. When things finally calmed down, everyone was served a lovely piece of chocolate cake that left them longing for more.

"So, Les, how's it feel to be 'leven?" Al asked as she set her plate aside and tried to pretend that there wasn't cake all over the birthday boy's face.

"The greatest!" Les cried, brandishing his fork like the wooden sword he no longer carried with him everywhere. He had decided this summer that it was too 'babyish' for him now that he was 'near eleven', so he kept it in his room instead.

That was part of the reason Al and Jack had decided a slingshot and plenty of good marbles would be perfect for him. Though the angry welt on the back of Jack's neck probably meant her older brother was rethinking the gift idea. However, Les had been complaining for weeks about his lack of a weapon. They had all conceded that he would likely need one. He still hadn't become a very good fighter yet, unlike Runner who was already exceptional at ten, and things in Manhattan were starting to look a bit troubling.

Al wasn't worried. At least, not too worried. Then again, not much had happened yet for her to be worried about. Rumors were going around that someone was out for Cowboy's throne. Someone had it in for the newsie leader and wanted to take Manhattan right out from under him.

Jack had simply taken the role of leader not long after he arrived in Manhattan so many years ago. He hadn't had to fight for it the way most borough leaders did. He simply picked up the mantle and wore it. Al sighed inwardly. She should have seen it coming. When someone found their in-road that easy, there was always bound to be another who would lead the opposition for that very reason.

It was more than just rumors, though, if she were to be honest. A few of their boys had been cornered in alleyways and whatnot. Most of them weren't too serious, just a black eye and a couple of bruises along with a threat to be relayed to Jack Kelly.

However, the last boy had been another story. It seemed the threats were getting more series and the beatings along with it. Comics came stumbling into the Lodge only a week ago with injuries bad enough to keep him bedded for a few days and his mother so worried that Al had been sent over to reassure her.

Finally, Mrs. Jacobs had to shoo away the non-family members. Tomorrow was a school day, after all, meaning that David and Les had to be ready to sit and learn for most of the day. Besides, she reminded them, Manhattan was dangerous at night and she didn't want to keep the three of them any longer and risk their safety.

David pecked Al on the cheek and she grinned, poking him in the stomach and wishing him a lovely day at school in the morning. She would be there when the bell rang to walk with him back to the Lodge. He may only get to sell papers on weekends and school holidays now that his father had recovered and David was back in school, but that didn't mean he was going to abandon all of the friends he had grown so close to in the past year.

Al, Jack, and Runner walked back to the Newsboys Lodging House together, chatting about the events of Les's birthday party and listening to Runner rave about the 'wonderful-ness' of chocolate. By the time they reached the Lodge, Al was exhausted. The Kelly siblings made sure the ten year-old was in bed before climbing up to the attic.

The attic of the Newsboys Lodging House was not a very pleasant place. Despite Kloppman's general tidiness, it had become the closest thing to a refuse pile besides the trash can itself. Al was determined to go through everything in that small, dusty room one day and clear it out. Surely there must be hidden treasures between the collapsed bookshelves, bunkbeds, moth-eaten mattresses, and various artifacts from newsies who had come before them.

She ducked under a cobweb that was high enough to be above Jack's head, but still low enough to warrant the chills that ran up her spine at the thought of a spider landing on her. She hurried after her brother to the door at the edge of the attic which led to their apartment.

Mr. Roosevelt was an outstanding man and had kept his promise to pay for a place where they could live. Even when the two came to him with the space they wanted, he had first tried to get them to go for something better. When they were adamant about renting out the space above the general store beside the Lodging House because of it's proximity and because of the door in the attic, he obliged and promised to pay the rent on the living space for as long as they had use of it.

Jack opened the door for and shuffled in, locking it behind his sister as she turned on the lights. That very door had been a major part of the reason they had chosen this living space. It was practically like having their own room at the Lodge, gave the boys easy access to their leader whenever they needed it, and it kept them from having to go through the general store to get to their quarters.

Mr. and Mrs. Lavenchi were overbearingly irritating to the general public, but Mrs. Lavenchi positively had it out for Al Kelly. She had harbored a special hatred for the girl ever since Al had called her a "fat, ugly cow". Now, in Al's defense, she had been provoked. The woman had been bad-mouthing the newsboys to her friend while Al was in earshot calling them all manner of insults. Most of them hadn't bothered her much until she started picking them apart individually.

It was when she called Crutchy a "good-for-nothin' gimp" that Al exploded. She and Crutchy had never been close, though they were likely the two the boys looked out for the most, but no one insulted her friends, especially not that sorry excuse for a woman.

Twelve year-old Al had erupted and Mrs. Lavenchi had hated her ever since. In fact, even if they had been able to scrounge up the money, the woman likely would never have rented out the living space to the Kelly siblings if it hadn't been for Mr. Roosevelt's involvement in the process.

The apartment itself wasn't much, but in comparison to living in a bunk room with fifteen plus boys or sleeping on the streets, it was more than enough. When you walked in through the attic door, you were confronted with a good-sized sitting room just big enough for the maroon loveseat couch that Skittery and Kid Blink had hauled in a few months ago claiming to have found it abandoned and a couple of wooden chairs Jack had found in the attic and fixed up. Past the sitting area on the left was a small kitchen with it's own stove and everything. To it's right there were two doors. The first was to the washroom, the other led to the bedroom that had just enough room for a single twin-sized bed and a small chest of drawers as well as a closet on the far left side. Al slept in the bed while Jack slept on the couch and the arrangement suited them.

Except for the mint green walls, which Al hated, the siblings loved their apartment and had done their best to make it their own.

"I told you he'd love the slingshot," Al told Jack as she entered the washroom, leaving the door ajar- not that it actually closed anyway. She splashed her face with cold water.

"An' I told ya we'd regret it. I already do."

"He's already pretty good at it. Maybe we should see if Spot'll give him some pointahs next time he's in 'Hattan." She wiped her face off with the towel beside the sink and picked up her toothbrush.

"That'll be the day."

The conversation stopped long enough for Al to brush her teeth and by the time she was done, Jack was laying on the couch, blanket strewn over himself with his eyes half closed.

"That tired?" she asked, a smile playing at her lips as she tied her hair back.

"S'been a long day, Ali," he responded. "An' we got papes to sell in the mornin'."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. G'night, Jacky."

"Night."

With a catlike yawn, Al let herself into the bedroom and slipped out of her skirt and shirt before pulling her nightgown over her head. She took enough time to fold the clothes she had been wearing and lay them atop the dresser before dropping onto her bed.

Since her gender had become common knowledge during the strike, Jack had finally been okay with her wearing girls clothes on a regular basis. Therefore, on her sixteenth birthday and at Christmas, she had received girls' clothing and such from everyone. She still kept her boys clothing in a drawer for the times she needed it- when Jack needed her incognito during some bit of newsie business. However, for the most part, she now wore skirts and dresses, though hers weren't nearly as frilly as Sarah's and that was just how she liked it.

_**Disclaimer: Alison Kelly, Runner, and Comics are my own characters. They belong to me, so no stealing them. :P**_


	2. Funny

_**Author's Note: I figured y'all had waited long enough for me to post chapter 2, so here it is. :) Many thanks to my awesome reviewers of the first chapter: Narniafan96, lovingstories, Ealasaid Una, destaaa246, Paisley the Flowergirl, and mysterygirl.**_

**Chapter 2- Funny**

_First round wasn't what I thought it'd be  
>Round two: I'm struggling to breathe<em>

_~One More Round: BarlowGirl~_

David fidgeted in his seat, itching for the final bell to ring so he wouldn't have to sit still any longer. He blamed the newsies for this newfound inability to keep still. He blamed them for a great deal of things, but they were probably the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

It was weird, being back in school now that his dad was back working in the factory. Thankfully, he had found a position that mainly consisted of pencil-pushing work. People didn't normally get injured in an occupation of that nature.

The middle child of the Jacobs family was glad his family wasn't depending on his income as a newsie any longer, but he missed working with his friends so much. School wasn't bad and he loved learning. He had a few friends here and there, but nothing like the close kinship of the newsboys.

_If only Al were here. That would be more than enough for me. _

He had tried to convince her to at least give it a shot, but both she and Jack had immediately shot him down. She didn't have a lot of experience with the school system, but she knew enough to understand that she would likely have been put back in remedial classes with the stupid and the young. There wasn't any way she was going there. Sure, she would let David teach her certain things. She did enjoy learning, but there was no way he was going to get her into one of those classrooms. Besides, she and Jack needed her daily income.

She did offer to wait for him outside the school whenever she finished selling her papers in the morning, though. Every once in a while she and a few of the other newsies would show up at his lunch break and they would all sit together until the bell called him back inside.

It was probably this tendency that kept him from making many friends at the school, he realized. Not only did he have a reputation after the strike, but newsies in general had a reputation of being rotten an no-good ruffians. Most of the kids probably kept their distance because they either considered themselves better or because they were afraid of getting jumped.

It didn't matter to him either way. He had never been one of the super outgoing types. That was more up Jack's alley. He was perfectly fine with blending into the background until he was needed or had something to say.

The bell rang and David sprang from his seat. Having already gathered his books, he was one of the first out of the classroom and quickly worked his way through the hallways to get outside.

"You're sure in a hurry, David," a girl giggled beside him and he inwardly grimaced when he recognized it as belonging to Hannah Bryce.

"Yeah, I'm goin' to meet my girl as usual," he responded with a shrug, hoping she would catch the message. She had been following him around and trying to flirt with him for a few weeks now. To be honest, he hadn't realized what she was doing until Racetrack pointed it out to him the last time he came for lunch. He just thought she was generally an annoying kid.

It had been irritating him ever since and, though she rarely said anything, he could tell it was bothering Al too. David halfway hoped that Al would tell her off and the girl would stop pestering him.

"Oh, what's her name again? Sal?" She gave a disinterested huff as she tucked her blonde hair behind an ear.

"Al. Al Kelly. She was one of the other strike leaders."

"Of course," she nodded.

"Bye then." David sped up his pace before she could protest and finally broke out of the front doors into the open air he had been longing for. He spotted Al immediately. She was sitting under the shade of one of the scraggly oak trees in the school's front lawn reading a paper she had saved from today's run. Her dark hair, which now reached a few inches past her shoulders, kept blowing into her face and she was holding a section of it back with her right hand so it would stop, using her elbow to keep that side of the paper from moving with the wind as well. Her bangs flew every which way, but those were above her eyes.

David sauntered up to her a grin playing at his lips.

"Hello, beautiful," he greeted her.

She folded the paper so she could see him over it now. Her hands were ink stained when he grasped the one she reached out to him so he would pull her up.

"I s'pose you're 'spectin' me to call you handsome now?" she grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"It would be appreciated," he responded, flicking her arm and chuckling.

"You know you are." Al rolled her eyes even as she stood up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

They started heading back in the direction of the Lodge arm in arm, enjoying the nice fall weather, even if it was a bit windy.

"What's the news?" he asked after a few moments.

"Mostly all about Roosevelt takin' office. I still can't believe he's the president now, ya know? My rent is paid by the president of the United States." Al shook her head in disbelief. "It was weird enough when he was V.P., but now? It's just crazy."

David laughed, but agreed with her. It had only been ten days since the former president was assassinated and now someone they had personally spoken with and who paid the Kelly siblings' rent was the new president.

It's funny how the world turns.

When they reached the Lodge, Al went straight up to the bunk room. David took longer on his way up the stairs because he spotted Comics coming down at the same time and stopped him.

"Hey man, how're you holding up?"

"Fine," he shrugged. The bruises on his face were mostly healed, giving his freckled face a yellowish hue that contrasted oddly with the lanky boy's flaming red hair. "Me mum's gone wild with worry."

"My mama was the same way after the first couple o' fights I was in," David clapped him gently on the back, trying to be encouraging. "I'm sure things'll calm down soon enough with 'er."

"Yeah, but only if things calm down 'round here."

David nodded and the two parted ways. He really did feel pretty bad for the kids. Comics had only been working as a newsie for a month or two now. While your first few months were never easy, most newsies didn't get jumped that badly. Comics hadn't even had time to make enemies of his own yet.

He ascended the stairs and was immediately caught around the shoulders by Mush.

"How was school, Davy?"

"Same as always," he responded. "Kinda interesting. Kinda boring."

"Sounds like fun," Mush laughed. David gave a noncommital shrug. They all knew he spent half of his time there wishing he was spending it with them.

"You takin' my sistah out tonight, Davy?" Jack asked as he sauntered in from the washroom. David had assumed that Al had gone straight to him when she walked in the room, but now saw she was sitting next to Race on his bottom bunk involved in a game of cards with Kid Blink and Skittery.

"Yeah, we're goin' to dinner and then dancing." David grinned even as the boys started laughing and calling him 'twinkle toes'.

"Aw, shaddup!" Al yelled from where she sat, not taking her eyes off her cards. "It's fun an' Davy's prolly a bettah dancah than any o' you lot."

That was probably a lie. They had discovered that they both enjoyed going out dancing a few months ago, but David had just learned to stop stepping all over Al's feet when he did. Much to her own surprise, she had taken to it quite naturally. His favorite part was likely the fact that as long as they danced, she couldn't wipe the smile off of her face.

"I wouldn't count on that. The ladies tell me I have quite the fancy footwoik," Mush grinned as he pulled his arm away from David and went over to have the boys deal him in.

"Long as ya have 'er home by ten," Jack winked, earning him an eye roll from David and likely Al too. "I don't want ya gettin' any ideas."

"Don't worry, David'll be a gentleman or he'll have the whole Lodge to reckon with," Race called over his shoulder while simultaneously elbowing Al, who happened to be looking over his shoulder to see his hand. She scowled and rubbed her side with her free hand.

"He's right, Jack," David agreed with a laugh.

David waited to go back home and get dressed until after Al was ready. She pinned her hair up in a neat little bun and wore the white dress that Sarah had helped her pick out a few days ago.

Kloppman had started paying her for the medical services she provided for the boys a little over five months ago. It wasn't much, but she had saved every bit of it and had decided a new dress was in order. David thought she looked beautiful in it.

Dinner was good and the dancing was even better. Even with the dance hall packed, as per usual on a Friday night, they had a great time.

When it was thirty minutes until ten, David nudged his dance partner and nodded at the clock.

"Okay, lemme just get one more glass o' punch," Al answered. He nodded and headed over to the door. She met him there a few moments later with another glass for him. He smiled, thankful for her thoughtfulness, and they both downed their glasses before heading out into the pleasantly cool September night.

"I had a real good time, Davy," Al smiled as she walked beside him, her warmth on his side. His arm was securely around her waist as they walked. He smiled down at her.

"I'm glad you had fun."

"I always have fun when I'm with you. That's the whole point of a date anyway," she grinned.

"True," he conceded.

"Did I tell ya what Jack did to Skittery today?"

"No," he laughed. "But I wager you're about to tell me."

"Don't be a smart mouth," Al teased, poking him in the side. "He shoved him in the rivah." She smiled up at him, eyes sparkling as if she were pleased with herself for being the one to tell him. It probably had something to do with the shocked expression on his face as well.

"But it's freezing this time o' year!"

"No kiddin'. But Jack said they was sellin' 'round the docks and Skittery was gettin' on 'is noives, so he just hauled off an' shoved him in. Luckily he had almost finished sellin' and none of his remainin' papes fell in the watah."

"I'll bet Skittery wasn't too happy when he got out."

"Nope. Been mopin' about it all day. 'Specially when he came in to the Lodge right aftah. God, it was funny. Blink'n I had already finished sellin' by then and were sitting in the front room when they walked up. Jack was all red-faced from laughin' and Skitts was red from bein' mad."

David chuckled at the mental image. "I'll have to ask 'im about it when- what's wrong?"

He looked down at his girl, who had stopped in her tracks. Her body had stiffened almost completely, which in turn, put him on edge. He followed her line of sight and realized there were two masked men staring them down, only a few hundred feet in front of them.

_Well this can't be good. _David couldn't think of a single legitimate reason as to why these men would be masked that didn't involve them doing something morally questionable and the fact that the couple was currently demanding their attention didn't bode well for David and Al.

"See any weapons on 'em?" Al asked under her breath.

"None visible."

"Should we try runnin' for it?"

"They'd be more likely to chase us then."

"True," Al conceded. She was the first to start walking again, though they both walked more cautiously this time, ready for anything. They tried moving to the other side of the road, since they had been walking down the middle of it, but the men did the same.

They were definitely planning on trying something then.

"You need something?" David asked gruffly, wishing there were more traffic on this particular street right now.

When they didn't answer, Al yelled, "'ey, you deaf?"

"That's not helping," her boyfriend whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

"It ain't a good idea to be insultin' us, dollface," the masked man closest to them responded.

"We ain't got any money if that's what you're aftah. We're newsies," Al told them.

"Oh, we know who you are," the other answered. "And that's why we're here. We got a message for Cowboy."

That stopped Al and David in their tracks again. David's fists clenched and he would bet anything that his girl's hands were also tightly fisted and itching to be swung.

"And what message would that be?" David questioned, eyes narrowing.

The closest stepped forward as a smirk played on his lips. "That the 'Hattan newsies don't belong to him an' if 'e don't keep the things he loves close to 'im," Here he paused for effect and nodded his head at the two of them. "He'll lose 'em."

It was at this point that the two lunged for the couple, but Al and David were expecting a fight by now and were ready for them. What they hadn't been ready for was the fact that the masked men weren't alone. They had back up that consisted of three other masked allies.

David had already gotten two good hits to his opponent's ribs when he received the kidney punch that dropped him to his knees with near agonizing pain. A knee connected with his face next and suddenly he was being dragged into the alleyway.

He could hear Al screaming as she was dragged in by the hair only seconds later.

"Don't you touch her!" he growled, trying to fight his way to her, but only receiving another boot to the stomach.

It wasn't until he saw the glint of light as a knife was flicked open, though, that he really became worried.

**_Disclaimer: Hannah Bryce is one of my OC's._**


	3. With Fury

_**Author's Note: Today has been super exhausting. Some of our friends from back in Texas have come to visit and we've been dragging them all over the city. Thankfully, I already had this chapter edited, so all I had to do was upload it! Lucky y'all! :P Narniafan96, BritishIsBetter639, destaaa246, Rachel, mystery girl, and Ealasaid Una: thank you so much for your reviews! They mean the world to me. :)**_

**Chapter 3- With Fury**

Jack tapped his fingers against his knee in irritation. It was half past ten and it wasn't like David to bring Al home late and with each passing minute he grew more and more antsy. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Come on," Racetrack groaned, standing up and waving for Jack to follow.

"What?"

"Let's go look for 'em. You're makin' me nervous with all your twitchin'." He stood just outside and lit a cigar. Kloppman wouldn't let the boys smoke inside. He was lenient with them when it came to all rules except this one. He had this gnawing fear that the boys would end up setting the house on fire. He claimed he had enough to worry about without the entire Lodge bursting into flames. With Matches now as a regular tenant, that was a legitimate possibility. The boys respected his wishes and made sure to smoke outside, even in the dead of winter- which is no small feat when it comes to a New York winter.

Race grew irritated when Jack didn't immediately follow him.

"Mush!" he yelled.

"What?" the shout came from upstairs.

"Get ya rear out here!"

The newsie in question poked his head out of the bunk room a few seconds later.

"We's gonna go lookin' for Davy an' Al. Send a boidy if they get back afore we do."

"They're not back yet?" Mush asked, brow knitting together with worry.

"No."

Mush leaned back into the room for a minute like he was talking to someone else. A few seconds later, he was walking down the stairs with Specs.

"We're comin' too. Skittery'll send the boidy."

Racetrack nodded and then looked at Jack, who still hadn't moved, with a put out expression. "Come on, we ain't gettin' any youngah."

Jack cocked a grin and rolled his eyes as he followed his friends out the door.

"Where should we look?" Specs asked as they started heading north, in the direction of the dance hall.

"We'll get closer'n split up. Whistle if ya find 'em," Jack instructed.

"They prolly just got caught up with their smoochin'," Race grinned from ear to ear, earning him a glare from Jack. "What? It's happened to the best of us."

"I thout you was the one sayin' we were gonna hoit 'im for that type o' thing."

"Not for kissin' his goil. I meant for messin' around with 'er." Race wiggled his eyebrows at his friend and Jack shook his head with a small smile.

A few minutes later, the two groups split up so that Race and Jack were heading up one street while Mush and Specs were a few streets away, combing their way through.

"So how were the tracks this mornin'?"

"Good, I won five bucks on one o' the horses," Racetrack grinned, still puffing at his cigar.

"Whattaya gonna do with it?" "Psh. Put it on another horse."

Jack shook his head, but smiled at his friend's antics. Gambling was Race's passion, but Jack sure hoped the dark side of the habit never caught up with him. It was one thing when he was a newsie and only had so much to bet. One day, he might be supporting a family and gambling away his paycheck and that was something Jack hoped he wouldn't be around to see if it did happen.

They were almost to the end of the street when Race nudged him.

"Ya hear that?" his friend asked, stopping where he stood.

"No, what'd ya hear?"

Race looked around and peered into the alleyway on their right. Jack followed suit and heard what sounded like a weak cough or a groan. That was all the cue his Italian friend needed to head straight into the dark alley. Jack intended to wait for him to investigate until he heard Race's started curse, followed by a long string of curses.

"Jack! Jack get ovah here now!" Race's voice sounded frantic and Jack was too surprised to question it. He half sprinted over to the where his friend was now crouching. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but a few seconds later, he realized he was staring at the crumpled forms of his best friend and his sister.

"Holy- Oh God." Jack dropped onto one knee and felt his pulse switch into overtime. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the fact that the knee of his pants was getting wet from whatever puddle it had landed in. God, he hoped it wasn't blood.

David was the closest to where he was and he didn't look good. His eyes were fluttering open, but half swollen along with the rest of his face. There was no telling how bad the damage was in this light, but if his inability to properly cough meant anything, he wasn't in great shape.

"Dave, Davy, you okay? What happened?" Jack asked, hurriedly, feeling the tremors that started at the base of his neck and spread outward.

"She's breathin', but she don't look good," Racetrack called from where he was already gathering up Al in his arms. "I can carry 'er, but there ain't no way I'll be able to pick him up."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Jack felt flustered and panicked, like the walls of the alleyway were about to close in on them at any moment. He started to slide his arms under David when he remembered that he needed to let Mush and Specs know the two had been found. He pulled back enough to loose a loud whistle with his thumb and pointer finger in his mouth, then scooped up David in one swift motion.

"Let's hurry. I don't like the look of this."

They hurried out into the dim lamplight and walked as briskly as they could with the dead weight they carried. Jack risked quick glanced over at his sister and felt his stomach churn. She didn't look much better than David. They were both bloodied, bruised messes.

Whoever had hurt the people he loved like this was going to pay. Jack would have them bleeding from every pore in their body when he got done with them.

And, God help him, if either of these two died, there wouldn't be a force in the world that would keep him from murdering the idiot who had dared laid a finger on them. He would strangle the life from their body like an over-ripe tomato. Hell, if this bastard showed his face any time soon, Jack might just kill them anyway.

He was pulled from his morose thoughts by the arrival of Specs and Mush. Their strings of cursing overlapped and intertwined with one another. Mush then offered to carry Al for Race and the former accepted. When they transferred her, Race had blood on his arms. Jack nearly lost it at that point and Race wiped at his arms like the blood was acid on his skin.

They made it back to the Lodge in record time. Specs went barrelling through the front door before them and Racetrack held it open as Mush and Jack stumbled in.

"Where should we put 'em?" Mush asked, turning toward Jack.

There were basically three options. They could lay them in the front room, but the only cushioning there was the couch and he didn't feel right having one of them lay on the ground right now. They could go for Jack and Al's room, but he didn't want to take them through the attic and have to maneuver around everything. The bunks were easy access and close to the washroom.

"Bottom bunks. I don't care if the boys wake up."

The two trudged up the stairs. Racetrack went ahead of them, kicking the door open and ordering the closest two newsies on the bottom bunks out of bed immediately and flipping on all of the lights. Most of the boys had been in bed, but all were up and complaining now. Their moaning stopped when Jack and Mush came through the door.

There was a split second of silence as the boys took in what was before them. Mush and Jack eased the two injured newsies onto the two beds. Then the hubbub came back full force as questions were thrown around the room.

"What happened?"

"Are they alright?"

"I thought they was supposed to be on a date?"

"What the hell?"

"Who did it? I'll soak 'em!"

"We'll all soak 'em!"

The questioned volleyed across the room, back and forth, until Racetrack had finally had enough.

"If yous don't shut your rotten mouths right now, I'll soak ya myself!" he yelled, face red with agitation. They fell quiet, not used to seeing him in such a state.

It was at that point that Kloppman came bustling in behind Specs. Though the old man was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he looked both alert and concerned. He leaned over Al for a tense moment, before looking up and locking eyes with Jack.

"We need a Doc," he told the newsie leader simply.

"Skittery, go with Specs," Jack ordered. The two were out the door in half a second. "Race, go wash yourself off. An' Boots, go get some wet cloths and bandages." He looked to Kloppman, silently asking him if there was anything else he needed. The older man inclined his head and set to work on his two unconscious patients.

Jack hadn't really had the chance to look at David and Al before now. He hadn't really wanted to. But then Kloppman was making sure the two could breathe properly while telling Jack to wash their faces and any wounds he could find on them. So Jack set about doing just that.

Mush volunteered to help with David, and Jack moved over to his sister. He looked down at her, apprehension bubbling up in his stomach. Her hair was a tangled mess, half out of the bun she had worn so prettily earlier tonight. It was caked with mud and a bit of blood from the gash a few inches above her eyebrow. Her left eye was swelling shut and her lower lips split in two different places. There was a long scratch that extended from her left ear, down her jawline, and ended at the tip of her chin.

Gently, Jack wiped the mud and blood from her face, which made her look much more human. He looked at the dress she had so recently bought with Sarah. She had been so proud of it when she brought it home, showing it off to Jack and smiling so brightly. Now it was in tatters. She was bleeding through it at certain places. Her right hip was turning red, as was the area under the left side of her rib cage.

Jack nibbled at his lower lip. Her stomach and rib cage were probably in pretty bad shape. He ought to have taken her upstairs, now that he reconsidered it, so she would have privacy. He would have to kick the boys out in a minute, he realized.

He looked down at her legs and saw that the hem on her right side was bloodier than he had anticipated. He slid her dress up to her knees and found two deep gashes that crossed her calf like an "X". The cuts were clean, like it had been done with precision. He couldn't tell how deep they were- he really didn't want to know- but one glance over to David said the perpetrator had done the same to him.

"Get 'is leg, Mush." So that was where most of the blood had come from. Jack clenched his teeth as he hurriedly cleaned the wound and wrapped it tightly with some of the bandages Boots had brought him, hoping that would stop the bleeding until the doctor returned. The cuts would probably need stitches.

"Oh God," Mush's exclamation told him the other newsie had found the "x" that was undoubtedly the signature of whoever it was that had jumped the couple. Jack refused to look and busied himself with taking off his sister's shoes and trying to distance himself from the damage so he wouldn't go insane. He had to take care of them now. He could freak out later.

It was then that he found a folded up piece of paper stuffed into her sock. The front read "Cowboy". Jack felt his blood run cold. There was no longer any question as to what had happened or why. Whoever was gunning for his newsie "throne" had just struck again and this time they had taken it too far.

Jack forced himself to pocket the note. His hands shook with fury.


	4. Down to Size

_**Author's Note: I think I've made y'all suffer with that cliffhanger long enough. Haha. So here's the new chapter, from Al's POV again.  
>Many thanks to the lovely reviewers who took their time to put a smile on my face these past two days: mysterygirl, Rachel, Ealasaid Una, Narniafan96, BritishIsBetter639, destaaa246, and lovingstories. <strong>_

**Chapter 4- Down to Size**

_Here I stand  
><em>_Empty hands  
><em>_Wishing my wrists were bleeding  
><em>_To stop the pain from the beatings  
><em>_And there you stood  
><em>_Holding me  
><em>_Waiting for me to notice you  
><em>_~Red Sam: Flyleaf~_

When Al regained consciousness, she wished she hadn't. Everything either ached or stung. Her entire body felt like it was on fire and it hurt to breathe even the most shallow of breaths. Already, tears were stinging her eyes from the pain. She wanted to cough, but knew it would be too much, so the tickle in the back of her throat persisted unabated.

The attack in the alleyway had happened so fast that it was now all a blur in her mind's eye. She remembered fighting to get to David. She remembered the hit that had knocked her flat on her back. She remembered screaming as she had been pounded on. She remembered being terrified that if they decided to take advantage of her body, she wouldn't be strong enough to fight back.

They hadn't taken advantage of her, she could tell that much, and for it she was thankful. She knew that those guys had jumped her and David because of Jack and she would have to tell him as much if she wanted to keep him safe. If she had gotten raped, Jack would never have forgiven himself. He still might not.

Al pried her eyes open, though they protested against the light that shone in the room. How long had she been out? It was too bright to be anything other than sunlight. She shifted her head slowly and realized she was in the bunk room. David lay on the the bottom bunk to her left. He was wearing a different pair of pants than he had been before, but that wasn't what caught her attention. His bare chest was covered only by wrapping around his rib cage. The rest of the skin on his stomach, though, was a deep purple with bruising. There were a few bits of gauze that were taped onto various parts of his sides, shoulders, and arms. Al knew those hid the parts where the belt they had been whipped with or the knife had broken his skin. His breathing was shallow, but at least she could see it from here.

His face was swollen and puffy. She could only see half of it from this angle, but a long, belt-like bruise came from the hairline just above his temple and ended where his neck began. His nose was bright purple and looked like it had been broken and later reset.

Al made a choking noise in the back of her throat as tears threatened to drown her. She hated seeing the people she loved in pain and seeing David laying prone like that was too much. Suddenly, Jack's face was in front of her, looking haggard and worried.

"You okay, Al? How're you feelin'?"

She didn't make to answer. She felt her lower lip trembling and she sniffed back the snot that tried to run from her nose. A hand appeared on Jack's shoulder and a calm voice told him to give her space. When he moved back, Al saw it was Maggie who was pulling him gently away. Her blonde hair was pulled back with the kercheif that she usually only wore to work. Her dark blue eyes took in Al with the ever-gentle expression she often wore.

"Mornin' Al, you had quite a night, didn't ya?" Maggie's voice soothed. "I'm gonna give you some o' this watah to drink, alright?" Al didn't nod, but she didn't need to. The older girl, who had been seeing Skittery ever since she met him last year at the strike gently lifted Al's head and let her drink from a glass.

Al couldn't swallow much, but what she did receive did help. The irritating itchiness in the back of her throat vanished and she didn't feel the need to cough anymore. Maggie then produced a bottle of whiskey that she said Kid Blink had filched for them. He claimed it would help with the pain.

"I don't know if it's true or not, but 'e insisted it was. You want me to give you some?"

Al thought she had heard something about it before. She nodded, the movement aggravating the headache that throbbed in the back of her head. The whiskey burned as it went down and more tears sprouted in her eyes from that alone. She blinked them away and felt them slide down the sides of her face.

"Thanks, Mag," Al said quietly. Maggie nodded and shuffled away to God knows where.

Jack's face was in her line of sight again. The bags under his eyes were defined and she doubted he had slept the night before.

"It's a little past lunchtime, if you're wonderin'. Davy's alright. Hasn't woken up yet, but I'm sure he will soon enough. Skittery went and got Maggie a little aftah the doc left last night. She's been helpin' me watch yous two."

"Doc?" Al rasped.

"Yeah, we 'ad to call one 'cause yous two was real beat up. Don't worry. We was able to pay most of it. Charged us ten dollahs for ya both, but Race paid five. He 'ad just won it from the tracks an' said yous was more important than gamblin'. I used some o' the money you an' I saved an' some o' the other boys gave a bit. Even Kloppman added in. We owe 'im a dollah, but Sarah should be bringin' that when she gets here."

Al blinked but didn't respond vocally to her brother's story. She was feeling drowsy again and was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Jack continued talking, sensing her inability to respond and knowing she would be asking the questions if she could, but after a few moments, she couldn't pay attention to him any longer. She closed her eyes and drifted off to a sleep that offered respite from the pain.

When she woke again, the sun was still bright and she guessed that she hadn't been asleep long this time. She tilted her head toward David and saw that her brother was leaning with his back against the wall between their two bunks, fast asleep.

Sarah was on the other side of David's bed, stroking her brother's hair and speaking to him in low tones. Al couldn't tell if he was awake or not, but she had this suddenly panicked feeling that welled up in her chest. She needed to see him. She needed to see with her own eyes that he was okay and recovering.

"David? David?" She sounded frantic and she knew it, but she couldn't help it. Sarah's eyes darted up toward her and the girl looked relieved to find Al awake. David's head turned around and his face mirrored his sister's relief.

"Al! Are you okay?" David tried to sit up, but fell back with a hiss of pain. Al felt the tears bite at her eyes again and shut her eyes tightly, willing away the image of David's pain-filled expression.

"Give 'im some o' the whiskey," Al ordered through clenched teeth. When she opened her eyes, she saw Sarah pulling the bottle from his lips and moving over to her.

"Don't try to get up again," she scolded over her shoulder. She looked down at Al. "You probably need some too." Al pushed herself up with an elbow that was definitely bruised. She winced, but stayed partially upright long enough to receive a large draught from Sarah before laying back down.

"How're you feeling?" David asked. His left eyebrow was swollen, but she could tell it wasn't nearly as bad as her black eye. It hurt when she blinked. Her left leg felt like it was on fire and she didn't know why. Her whole body felt bloated from swelling and when she moved her right arm, she found it was in a sling and the movement made pain stab her just below her neck and a little to the right. She had broken her collarbone then. She pushed out an irritated breath.

"Like a barrel o' sunshine," she answered sarcastically. "An' you?"

"I've been better."

It was at that point that another pair of footsteps was heard and Racetrack appeared on the other side of Al's bunk.

"Look who decided to finally wake up." He leaned over her and pushed some of her hair away from her face with all the tenderness of a brother, careful to avoid the bandage on her forehead. The left side of his mouth pinched together and pulled back into a dimple in a way that showed he was displeased with the situation. For a second, she almost thought he might scold her. "I'm glad you're alright, Ali," he told her quietly.

Al nodded and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"Do ya know who done this to ya?"

"They were wearin' masks," David responded for her.

"You know why they did it?"

"Well-"

"I do," Jack butted in, apparently having woken up. He pushed himself off the wall and onto his feet while simultaneously reaching into his pocket. "They left a message in your sock, Ali."

"Bastards," she muttered in response.

"What's it say?" Sarah asked, leaning against one of the bedposts, right arm wrapped around her middle.

"Cowboy," Jack read aloud. "Yous gettin' too cocky up there at the top. I think it's about time we knocked ya down to size. How'dya like my woik?" He crumpled the paper up in tightly clenched fist and slammed it against the top bunk of Al's bed. She felt it shudder under the impact. "He signed it with an 'x'".

Racetrack chewed his tongue for a long moment. He looked off into the middle distance with a fairly disturbed expression before mumbling something about needing a smoke and heading out the door.

"All this just to be head of the Manhattan newsies?" Sarah questioned. "Who would follow this guy after what he's done to everyone?"

"What othah choice do they have?" Jack answered her, running a hand through his hair as he spoke. "It's the way the newsies woik. You're leadah 'til someone biggah comes into town an' decides to relieve ya of your post. It ain't like the boys who like me more can quit their jobs just 'cause they don't like the new guy. They suck it up and take it or challenge 'im themselves."

"Who did you have to challenge to become leader?"

"No one. The 'Hattan newsies didn't much have a leadah 'fore I came along. I just kinda fit into the role an' it's been that way evah since."

Sarah nodded, comprehension flooding her features."So this guy thinks he has even more of a right 'cause you didn't have to put up a fight for the so-called throne?"

"'xactly."

"Which means we've got more to worry about than just me'n Al getting better." David looked toward Jack for confirmation, to which he received a curt nod.

"Top priority is seeing you two up on your feet again," Sarah responded, pushing a few of his matted curls away from his forehead.

"Because someone has to keep Jack outta trouble," Al pointed out with a chuckle that David and Jack echoed. Sarah rolled her eyes, but smiled fondly at the younger girl.

**_Disclaimer: Maggie is my own character. However, you may be interested to know that she's very loosely based off of one of the girls in the movie that Skittery hands the "Newsies Banner" to during the strike. So you can pretend that's her if you'd like. :)_**


	5. Stop It

_**Author's Note: Well, I'm already halfway through the pre-written chapters and had better get to work on finishing off this story. I've been delaying it in order to finish the Harry Potter series, of which I had previously seen all the movies and not read the books. Obviously, the books were a thousand times better than an already stunning set of movies and J.K. Rowling has officially become one of my absolute favorite , back to the story. Thank y'all so much for your lovely reviews. Keep them coming! They mean so much to me! Narniafan96, Ealasaid Una, Rachel, destaaa246, and The Broadway newsie - I tip my hat to you. :) **_

**Chapter 5- Stop It**

David was so bored that it almost hurt as bad as his injuries.

He sat on his bed, back leaned against the wall as he worked to catch up on his homework from the days of school he had missed. Having been beat up on a Friday night, he had stayed at the Lodge for the entirety of Saturday and Sunday before walking home on Monday. It was now Wednesday afternoon and he would be returning to classes tomorrow. Sarah had gone by to pick up his assignments yesterday and he was almost finished working on them.

The only thing David really didn't look forward to was all the questions he was sure to get in the morning. No doubt, everyone would want to know what had happened, why, and how he fared. He didn't fancy telling them he had been jumped with his girlfriend and they had been beaten pretty bad, but there was no denying it. They only had to take one look at him to figure out what the outcome had been.

His mother had been in an uproar all week. She had been worrying and hovering ever since he came home and though he was touched by her concern, he was ready to escape it. His father hadn't been nearly as bad, just asked if he was okay, asked if he had defended Al to the best of his ability, patted his son on the back, and left it alone.

At least Jack and Al were due here any minute. They could distract Mrs. Jacobs from fluttering over him for at least a few hours. Al would be another person to worry over and Jack had a way with charming David's mother that kept her in a light, happy mood.

Speaking of company, the door to his bedroom jiggled a little and Al poked her head in. He resisted the urge to grimace as she grinned at him and entered the room. It wasn't that he thought she looked ugly with her bruising and cuts. He still thought she was beautiful. It was knowing that those bruises and cuts, even the limping that was eerily similar to his, caused her pain. He hated knowing she was in pain and he hadn't been able to protect her from it.

"Stop it." Al paused, the door ajar behind her, only a few feet from his bed. Her eyes were narrowed and the grin had collapsed into a thin line.

"Stop what?" David asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Ya got that look on your face," she said as she sat down next to him and eased herself backward so that she leaned against the wall beside him. "Like Jack gets when he's blamin' 'imself for something. If you don't get rid of it, I'll make that black eye o' yours blackah."

David smirked and leaned in, capturing a quick kiss from her lips. He could feel the scabs on her lower lip as he pulled away and wondered if it hurt. Her frown was gone when he pulled away, though, and a smile lit up her eyes.

"How've you been feelin'?" she asked after responding with another kiss, then settling back against the wall, her head leaning serenely against it.

"Better every day, but it still hurts like hell."

"Here," she leaned down and lifted up her skirt to just below her knees. David saw that she had a pouch tied around her uninjured leg from which she pulled a small canteen. On her other leg, the stitches that closed the "x"-shaped wound matched his own. He resisted the urge to suck in a breath at the sight of it. Al smoothed her skirt down again and handed him the canteen that he soon found contained whiskey.

David wasn't much of a drinker. Beer just didn't taste all that wonderful to him and whiskey stung his throat too much to be enjoyable, but it sure came in handy when he was in pain like this. He took two swigs before handing it back to her. She tipped the bottle to her lips and then closed it. She chose to hold it in her lap rather than put it back in the pouch.

Al leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. David studied her face as she did, wondering how he could have been lucky enough to win her heart. What had she seen in him that was so special? Especially in comparison to herself.

Al cracked her left eye open and peered at him as if expecting him to talk. More likely she was waiting for a question, since she always insisted that he asked more than anyone she had ever known.

"How has your week been?" he asked, not meaning to disappoint her.

Her eye closed again, but a supressed grin tilted the edges of her lips upward.

"It's been alright. Jack's hoverin' and the boy's've been worryin' more'n they oughta." She smiled as if resisting the urge to laugh when she thought of their concern. "Been havin' trouble sleepin' though."

"Why's that?" he wondered aloud.

She hesitated. "Nightmares."

David's homework was forgotten now. He set the book aside and turned his head to look at her fully. He was remembering the night he had given up his bed for her the night Jack was arrested during the Newsies Strike. He remembered falling asleep to the sound of her sniffling as she cried herself to sleep on his bed only to wake with her screaming. She had lied about it at first, but later revealed that she often had nightmares from the times she had been abused by her parents, and some from particularly bad beatings.

He remembered holding her that night as she sobbed and wishing he could fix the whole world for her. Her life had been harder than anything he could imagine and the fact killed him. He wanted her to have the best. He wanted her to be safe. He wanted her to be able to sleep the night through without being reminded of all the hardships she'd had to get through to reach this point in her life.

"What were these ones about?"

Her eyes were open now and she was looking in his direction. She wasn't looking at him, but through him, as if seeing something he couldn't. He knew she had trouble talking about her nightmares. She didn't like talking about her past either. The fact had gotten the two of them in more than one fight in the first few days of their acquaintance.

David had always been naturally curious and wanted to know all about a person. And most people wanted to be known, so that worked out for him. Al wasn't that type of person, though. Sure, she wanted to be known as much as the next person, but she wasn't as willing to open up to those who tried. In a way, the walls she put up were so that only those who were truly worthy of knowing would bother trying to scale them. Life had made her hard, so she had closed everyone off.

"When I was about five, maybe six, Ma got mad at me for somethin'. I don't remembah what. Jack was sick and it had made 'er real stressed an' stuff. She locked me in a dark closet for a long time." She paused as if remembering the terrorr of it to her small self. He slid his hand into hers and it seemed to spur her into finishing. "I think it was a day or two, 'cause I ended up wettin' myself. Daddy was so mad when he found me in there." She shuddered again. "Beat me'n Ma togethah. Her for lockin' me in there so long. Me for wettin' myself."

David didn't know what to say. He tried not to let the horrified feeling inside of him surface to his face. He knew it would just make her feel uncomfortable if he let it. Instead, he looked down and took her hand into both of his, caressing the skin on the back of it with his thumb.

"I also dreamed 'bout us gettin' jumped by those guys a couple times. An' once about the time the Delancey's an' Shifty did."

David could kick himself, sitting there, holding her hand in silence. Maybe his dad had been happy with the fact that David had done his best to take care of Al on Friday, but David was far from satisfied. His best wasn't good enough because even at his best, Al still hobbled from the pain where her leg was stitched up. She still had a broken collarbone, her arm in a sling. She still had a painfully bruised face. And her pain was still killing him.

"So how was your week?" she asked abruptly, ready to change the topic.

"Mama's been worried. She seems to think I'm gonna break. She tried to convince Papa that I needed to stay home the rest of the week too, but he wouldn't hear of it."

"So you're going back to school tomorrow?" "Yeah," David answered with a sigh.

"You don't sound too excited." The left side of her mouth tilted upward in amusement. When David didn't answer she put her head on his shoulder. "It'll be fine. And if I can't be there when you're out, I'll make sure one of the boys comes so you won't be lonely." He knew the other part of that was Jack's insistence that no one walk alone now. It was getting too dangerous when the two people closest to him - both being at least decent fighters - could get taken down like that. "Now, why don't you read that book o' yours out loud for me?"

They sat that way, Al's head on his shoulder and one of her hands in his while he read his history book out loud. They were currently covering the American Revolution. She would stop him occasionally, either to ask a question about the material or ask about a definition, but listened for most of it.

It wasn't until dinner was ready that they put the book aside. Sarah had poked her head in and told them to wash up. David helped Al off the bed.

"Jack needed to come ovah here as much as I did. He's been drivin' 'imself up a wall with all this worryin'. I was hopin' a change o' scenery, an' a lil' bit of Sarah, would do 'im good," Al said as she limped in front of him. What a sight they must look, the two of them limping the way they were. They might as well be Crutchy 2 and Crutchy 3 the way things were going.

Dinner was delicious and David's hopes that the guests would keep her mind off him worked quite well. Al had been right about Jack, he was more subdued than usual and often forgot to answer when he was addressed.

His head was in the clouds, all right. Not that it was much of a difference than usual. Only now he wasn't dreaming, he was stuck in some sort of nightmare.

After dinner, David sat outside the front door to talk with him privately. Normally, they would hang out on the fire escape if they wanted to talk, but with David wounded, it wasn't going to happen. So they sat across from each other in the hallway, their criss-crossed legs causing their knees to touch.

David sat there, grappling with what words he could use to put Jack at ease and bring him back to his usual self. He realized shortly that he didn't need to bother. Jack had always been a talker, one of the prime differences between he and his sister, and being upset wasn't about to change that any.

"Al told you she's been having nightmares?" Jack asked, sounding more than ready to take out whoever was the cause of those nightmares cropping up again. David nodded and opened his mouth to respond, but Jack cut him off. "I been talkin' to Race an' we both think they're 'bout to make a real move soon. They're really gonna try to take my spot, though we don't know how yet. Usually it's just a fight between leadahs. Sometimes it turns into an all-out rumble. But we ain't nevah seen anyone pull sommat like this. They don't usually go around beatin' on kids afore bein' their leadah."

"It sure doesn't seem like a very smart plan, does it?" David commented.

"No, but now that whoever it is has gone an' attacked two people so closest to me, he's gotta make a real move soon, right?"

David disagreed. He could see someone deciding to follow something like that up quickly, but he could also see them letting it simmer too. What better way to instill some fear in your enemy than take a couple of gut shots, then lean back and let them bask in the pain of it?

"I suppose he does," was all David could find himself able to answer.

**_A/N: Oh, I almost forgot to mention. _We Run the Papes_, the story preceding the one you're currently reading, has been nominated for some awards in the New York Newsies Awards. There's a link on my profile page for any of y'all who would like to vote for my story (or someone else's)! _**


	6. Loyalties

_**Author's Note: Sorry this one was a tad later than than usual. I made myself refrain from posting it until I had finished at least half of Chapter 11. I want to stay ahead now so you can get updates on at least a semi-regular basis, instead of having to wait for my next bout of inspiration to strike.  
>Anyway, a thousand thank yous and virtual cookies to Ealasaid Una, Rachel, destaaa246, and mysterygirl. Y'all's reviews mean so much to me. Please keep them coming and keep a smile on my face. :)<strong>_

**Chapter 6- Loyalties**

Jack lay with his fingers intertwined behind his head and the blanket settled halfway up his chest. His spot on the sofa was comfortable enough, but here he was waking up early because he was worried about his younger sister in the next room.

He hated seeing her like this. He always had. She had been getting hurt by the cruel world around them since she was a child. He had always done his best to protect her, keep her safe. He had tried to do his best to shield her from all the evil the world had to offer, but it had never been enough.

She used to idolize him as a kid. Then again, kids tend to do that with their heroes and Al never had any other hero to look up to except for him. He was glad she had grown to have a healthy appreciation for him over the years. If she had continued viewing him as her savior, it would have been too high a pedestal for him to be able to stand on.

Jack hated knowing she was in pain. He hated knowing he hadn't been able to save her from it. He almost hated David for not being able to stop it either. But when he looked out how bad off David was, he couldn't dream of being upset at the kid. He'd done his best, hadn't he?

As if on cue, Al came limping out of the bedroom in her nightgown, her hair all mussed up and her eyes half closed. Jack swung his legs off the couch in time for her to plop onto the end where his feet would have been. She leaned over and lay her head on his shoulder.

"Mornin', Al. How ya feelin'?"

"Mmm."

He chuckled at her and poked her stomach.

"You hungry, sis?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Me too. Wanna make some eggs?"

She punched him lightly in the stomach and he burst out laughing. He stood and made his way over to the kitchen. He wasn't joking about the eggs. It was more than well-known that Jack Kelly couldn't cook to save his life. At least he didn't burn boiled water. David had that arena covered already. Al wasn't a great cook either, never having been taught until just recently, but she was getting there. Sarah and Mrs. Jacobs were teaching her a thing or two and, as it turned out, both Race and Skittery had a few tricks up their sleeves as well. It was enough to make a fellow curious, but neither would reveal the source of their culinary secrets, so it appeared he was stuck with his curiosity for good.

Jack filled his glass with water from the pump and grabbed another one for Al. When he turned around she was hobbling toward him. She pulled the skillet out of the sink and set it on the stove. "Hand me the eggs," she ordered, half awake.

Jack nodded and pulled them from the ice chest. She cracked both of them onto the skillet and began pushing them around as the pan heated up.

"I'm sellin' today," Al stated after a few moments.

"Oh no you ain-"

"Oh yes I am, Jack." She glared at him, never taking her hand from her work. "David's back at school today an' we can't keep livin' on only what you bring 'ome for a hundred papes a day much longah. I gotta get back to woik or we's gonna starve."

"How do you 'spect to even make it down to the Distribution Center?" Jack asked skeptically.

"I made it to Davy's house didn't I?"

Her smirk told him he'd lost the battle. She was going to do what she wanted and he wouldn't be able to stop her. He let out a sigh of defeat. "Fine, but you're sellin' with me."

Al nodded and went back to the eggs. When breakfast was finished and the two were both dressed, they headed to the Distribution Center with the boys.

It was nice having a smiling face look back at you through the bars where the newsies bought the papers. Ever since Weasel had been fired, Mr. Mayfield had been standing in his shoes. After Weasel, every one of the newsies loved and respected Mr. Mayfield. They never hassled or bugged him because he never hassled or bugged them.

"Mornin', Jack. Mornin', Miss Kelly. How're you doing today?" The older man grinned at them as the tow-headed boy beside him counted out two hundred papers.

Jack slid two half dollars and two dimes toward the man as he spoke. "Doin' alright, sir. How 'bout you?"

"Doin' good, son. Doin' good." He turned to Al. "I heard about what 'appened. The boy's're awful riled up about it. You'n your man healin' up real good?"

"Yes, sir," Al smiled.

"Glad to hear it. Glad to hear it." He pushed their stack of two hundred papes toward them. "You two stay outta trouble, ya hear?"

"Yes, sir," they responded in unison as they headed off.

Jack refused to let Al hold her papers. He could tell she was having enough trouble as it was and he didn't need her feeling worse, no matter how forcefully she insisted she could handle it. Jack knew his sister and he knew her well.

They reached the boxing ring and twenty papers right off the bat. After that, Al got more sympathy from the people than Jack had expected. By the look on her face, she hadn't suspected to be able to milk it so well either. Apparently, buyers were suckers for a pretty girl who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It wasn't until late in the morning, when the two had long since left the boxing ring and were now making their way to a popular corner of a nearby park, when they ran headlong into Runner. Actually, it was the other way around. Runner came running into them. They only had about thirty papers left, but the blonde ten year-old's hands were empty.

Jack ruffled his hair affectionately. "Hey kid, you done sellin' already?"

"No." He shuffled his feet, looking like he wanted to say something but was too afraid to say it.

Al cocked her head beside Jack. "Who's watchin' ya papes for you?"

"Someone took 'em." He looked up, clearly ashamed of himself. "An' they took my sellin' spot."

"Aw, it happens to the best of us," Jack told the younger boy, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and squeezing him tight. "You can come sell with us an' tomorrow make sure you're sellin' with someone who'll help ya fight the scabbah."

Runner nodded and Jack was satisfied, but Al apparently wasn't. "What're you not tellin' us, Runner? What else 'append?" she questioned. "Is 'at a black eye?" She grabbed his chin and tilted it. Sure enough, Jack saw the beginnings of a hearty bruise on the ten year-old's left eye.

"Well, they talked to me afore they took my papes'n stuff." He paused long enough for Al to open her mouth as if she was going to prompt him. He spoke before she could. "Told me they would leave me alone if I . . . well, . . . switched loyalties."

Jack felt his visage darken considerably. He bent down so he would be almost eye to eye with Runner. The kid was growing, he noticed. It wouldn't be long before the two of them were literally seeing eye to eye.

"Where were you?"

"Couple streets East o' the Distribution Center."

"What'd you tell 'em when they told you to follow 'em?"

"I said, 'You can take my papes an' stick 'em up ya rear.'" He grinned proudly and Jack felt himself mirror the look. He glanced at his sister, who was shaking her head and trying to keep herself from smiling as well.

Jack ruffled the boy's hair again and stood. "Runner, would ya go get Race an' Blink? We're gonna have a talk with these boys o' yours."

"Yes, sir!" Runner turned and started to run before doubling back.

"What is it, hon?" Al asked.

"I forgot to tell ya who it was."

"You recognized 'em?" Jack found the question bursting from his lips before he had even registered the surprise in his brain.

"Yeah, it was Shifty an' Keeps."

"Thanks. Go get 'em now," Jack ordered, feeling his resolve build even as his body stiffened with the news. His sister's hand was on his shoulder as he watched the younger newsie run off. Even through that touch, he could feel that she was just as tense as he was.

"You're not coming," Jack told her without looking back. She withdrew her hand as if she had been burnt. "Come on, Ali. You're in no condition for sommat like this." When she didn't respond, he turned around and gave her a you've-gotta-be-kidding-me look. "It could break out into a fight."

"I can handle it."

"No. No, you can't," Jack stated matter-of-fact. He crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring his sister as he raised an eyebrow at her. "You can hardly sell papes! How'dya 'spect to hold your own in a fight when you're all beat up like this?"

Al was fuming and Jack was surprised he couldn't see the steam coming out her ears. "You can sell the rest of our papes instead, but I don't want ya anywhere near Shifty an' Keeps. Got it?"

"Yeah. Whatevah."

When Race and Blink got there, Al was still pissed, but Jack had more important things to think about. He sent her back with Runner and debated sending Blink with her too, both for protection and to make sure she didn't turn around and follow them. But he decided against it, knowing that presenting these turncoats with a strong front was the first step toward making them back down.

Jack thought Shifty would know better than to show his face in town this soon after Al and David had been beaten up so badly. Shifty had had it out for Al for years and after he and the Delancey brothers jumped she and David in an alleyway two years ago, he had expected that to be the last time he showed his face in Manhattan. Now, not only were his friends pounding on Jack's friends, but he was defying Jack to his face.

Someone was going to walk away from this and Jack decided it wouldn't be Shifty. He was going to have to crawl.

Kid Blink and Racetrack fell in step with him as he headed back to where Runner had been selling, eager to see the traitors eat their own threats. He found himself thanking his lucky stars that the kid had gotten away with nothing more than a black eye. The kid may go by "Runner", but that wasn't because he was particularly fast. In fact, Les could beat him in a race point blank. The only way the kid had made it away from Shifty and Keeps virtually unscathed was because their presence in Manhattan was more of a message than anything.

The way he figured it, the bastard gunning for his throne, beating on his newsies, and threatening the people he loved was trying to send yet another message. He was trying to get under Jack's skin - showing Jack that Manhattan and all of its inhabitants were up for grabs.

The boys were as silent as they headed down the street, three abreast, looking ready to kill. Jack suspected they were just as eager as he to hurt someone affiliated with the group who had jumped Al and David less than a week ago.

That was the one thing about the newsies that Jack appreciated more than nearly anything else. They considered themselves a family and everyone looked out for everyone else. Sure, they let them fight their own battles when they needed it, but they fended for each other when they could and protected their own. In other words, they considered Al about as much their sister as she was Jack's. They would defend her to the death in the same way she would fight tooth and nail for them. Jack couldn't be more thankful for that at a time like this.

They reached the place Runner had indicated and the first thing Jack noticed was a stack of about fifty or so papes submerged in a nearby puddle. The second thing he noticed was that Shifty and Keeps were a couple of feet away, both smirking like they owned the world.

Jack clenched his fist and released it again, his knuckles itching to make contact with their flesh.

"Good to see ya, Cowboy," Shifty said, pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning on. He spread his arms wide. "Like my new sellin' spot? That is, until I get that nice little one by the boxin' ring."

Jack decided to forego pointing out the obvious lack of papers other than the ones laying in the puddle. He even ducked under the "I'm gonna take your spot" bait. He simply glared at the two boys in front of him.

"What're you doin' here?"

Keeps answered this time. "How's that pretty little sistah of yours?" He winked and Jack felt his resolve to stay calm crumble. He tried to lung forward, but Blink and Race both grabbed his arms at the same time. They needed information.

"How's your arm?" Race shot back.

Keeps scowled. He may have had a good five inches on the Italian newsie and about nearly fifty pounds too, but that hadn't stopped Racetrack from breaking his arm when he had tried to make a move on Al a few years ago. He had been subsequently kicked out of the Lodge and Manhattan itself.

Now Jack just wanted to know what he and Shifty were doing back here.

**_Disclaimer: Shifty, Keeps, and Mr. Mayfield are all property of yours truly._**


	7. Dumb Questions

_**Author's Note: It's been a crazy weekend, but a rather good one. :) I know y'all were wondering where your new chapter was, but here it finally is! :P Thank you so much BritishIsBetter639, Ealasaid Una, destaaa246, Narniafan96, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, Rachel, The Broadway newsie, and mysterygirl for your lovely reviews. They make me grin like a crazy person each time I see a new one!**_

**Chapter 7- Dumb Questions**

Al felt more exhausted than she cared to admit.

Her limbs were stiff and her head felt heavy, but she wasn't about to go back to the Lodge now. Not only was she tired of sitting indoors all day, but now her mind was abuzz with the news of Shifty and Keeps being back in town. She didn't want to admit that the fact made her feel antsy and unsafe.

She needed to talk to someone and she knew exactly who that someone was.

"Come on, Runner." She waved him toward the direction in which she was turning.

He hurried up alongside her. "But Jack said-"

"We're not gonna go follow 'im." She rolled her eyes, both thankful for and irritated with his loyalty to Jack right now. The walk was longer than usual. She had expected as much, but it was still frustrating. All Al wanted to do was collapse and she had to keep trudging on, looking as if she wasn't thinking about passing out where she stood.

She had the strange urge to burst into tears when she found herself standing before the school's front gate. Runner moved up beside her and pointed to a tree nearby, suggesting they rest beneath it. Al nodded and the two made their way over.

Al was more than thankful to lay in the grass. She didn't care if she got grass stains on the back of her shirt or if laying on the ground messed up her hair. Then again, she hadn't done much to it in the first place this morning. She just shoved a newsie cap on top of her head. Out of all the things she had been more than happy to give up when she started dressing like her own gender, she had never stopped wearing the caps. At least her nickname still fit.

Al didn't realize she had fallen asleep until she felt someone touching her face. She opened her eyes and found David leaning over her, a gentle smile on his face and his fingertips lingering on her cheek. She pushed herself up slowly with her one free arm and smiled back.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Forever," Runner exaggerated with a groan.

When she sat up, she realized David was holding a pail that she assumed contained his lunch. Sure enough, once he was situated on the ground in front of her, he pulled out a sandwich and ripped it in half, offering her some.

"M'fine. You eat it." David tossed Runner some jerky before trying to offer the half to Al again. "You deaf?"

"Come on, Al. You need to eat and keep up your strength if you wanna heal up faster," David pleaded sweetly. For some reason it reminded her of the reason she was here in the first place and she accepted the sandwich half, biting into it and chewing slowly so she could piece together everything going on in her mind.

"How was school?" she asked after swallowing the first chunk.

"I've never been asked so many questions in my life," David answered, rolling his eyes. Al bit back a remark about how she still called him 'Questions' when his curiosity got the best of him- which was often. He continued, "I think it's made some of them more scared of me and some of 'em less. It's definitely strange."

"Weird," Al commented. She looked past him and realized they weren't the only ones taking advantage of the cool weather. Half the student body, she guessed was sitting outside, and more than half of those were looking their way and whispering. "Looks like we got an audience."

David glanced over his shoulder and groaned under his breath. "And we've got a visitor."

It was that girl again. The blonde giggly one who was always eyeing David like he ought to be hers and glaring at Al like she was just in the way. Two could play at that game, though.

"Why is she coming ovah here?" Al mumbled.

"Beats me," David whispered back.

Irritated as she may be, though, Al wasn't concerned. She knew David, and she knew he only had eyes for her. He felt nothing for Hannah, no matter how intense Hannah's feelings may be.

Runner looked interested and moved in closer so he could get in on whatever was happening.

"Hey, David. Hey, Sal," Hannah chirped brightly.

"Al," David corrected, sounding irritated. Al guessed the whole being-in-pain thing had done about as much for his temper as it had for hers. It had shortened it considerably.

"Is it cool if I sit with you?" She didn't wait for an answer, she just sat down as close to David as she thought she could get away with.

"Runner, this is Hannah. Hannah- Runner." Al gave the introductions. Runner lifted his cap and continued to chow down on the jerky he had been given.

"So Jack said you could come today?" David asked, looking back at Al.

"Who's Jack?" Hannah asked, cocking her head to the side. She tended to avoid approaching David outside of school grounds when most of the guys were there. The only newsie besides Al and David she had ever spoken to was Racetrack, and he had been rude enough to her to keep her from making that mistake again. Race didn't mince words with people who didn't strike his fancy. Al guessed that Runner was so young that Hannah didn't see him as being much of a threat.

Runner's mouth hung open, half-chewed food hanging out of it. In his small world, everyone knew who exactly who Jack Kelly was.

"My bruddah," Al answered as she gently pushed up Runner's chin so his mouth snapped shut. "An' he don't know I'm here." Some of her dark hair flew into her face, obscuring her vision, and she pushed it back behind her ear.

David's brows knit together. "Where is he then?"

"I 'spect he's fightin'," Runner answered, talking around his food.

"Don't talk with ya mouth full, Runner," Al reprimanded.

"Fighting who?" David asked. "What happened?"

"Shifty an' Keeps are back in 'Hattan." Al rubbed the back of her neck and gave him a sheepish half smile, mostly because she didn't know what else to do. She watched his eyes go hard.

"Who're Swifty and Keen?" Hannah questioned.

David ignored her. "What happened?"

"They're helpin' out whoever jumped us. They tried to get Runner to join 'em this mornin'. Stole 'is papes an' sellin' spot when 'e refused," she explained. "Jack wouldn't lemme go with 'im, so we just came 'ere instead." She gestured vaguely at Runner and the stack of papers that he had set down beside him.

"Shifty and Keeps," Runner corrected, talking to Hannah slowly, as if he believed something wasn't right in her head.

"He took Racetrack'n Blink with 'im."

"Whatever. Who are Shifty and Keeps then?" Hannah answered with a roll of her eyes.

"You okay?" David asked, softening considerably when he realized the three of them were handling it. He reached out a hand and grasped hers.

Al shifted where she sat. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, I ain't scared or nothin', but I ain't happy 'bout it eithah."

"Excuse me!" Hannah exclaimed with more than a little irritation and prissy attitude. "I'm still sitting here."

"Are you?" David responded coldly with just as much irritation.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, eyes narrowed.

"It means you're _excused_." He turned back to give Al his full attention and she could feel her own eyebrows reaching dangerously close to her hairline. Al had never heard him be so short or cross with any girl other than Sarah before. He was generally a very genteel person.

Hannah stood abruptly, face turning an ugly shade of red and looking like she was resisting the urge to stomp her foot. Instead, she whacked David in the back of the head with her open palm. The sound of the smack was loud and it hit Al like a smack in the face. She hadn't been legitimately irritated or angry until that point.

David put a hand to the back of his head and scowled. Al was on her feet in a minute, glowering dangerously at the blonde girl. Hannah had another thing coming if she thought she was going to get away with smacking David, especially when he was already hurt.

"What the_ hell_ do you think you're doing?" Al hissed, fully aware that the attention of everyone out on the lawn was fixed on her. She could care less. She took a threatening step forward and Hannah took a reciprocating step backward.

Hannah looked shaken, but in her anger she gave Al a condescending smirk. "You might wanna get some rest. You look terrible."

Al raised an eyebrow. Really? That was the best she could come up with. At least Mush's girlfriend had been able to come up with "Newsie whore" when Al had gotten into that row with her a week or two ago. Make that Mush's _ex_-girlfriend . . . who walked away from the encounter with a bloody lip.

"Nice try. You can go now." Al answered, she turned to sit back down, but apparently her dismissal caused something to snap in Hannah.

The girl let out a cry of outrage and kicked out at Al, her foot connecting with Al's right calf, right where the stitches were. Al crumpled in on herself as fire shot up and down her leg. Runner yelled out a curse word that he had probably picked up from Kid Blink and David was on his feet, yelling as he shoved Hannah with enough force to put her on her back. He was right in Al's face seconds later.

"Al, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Stop askin' dumb questions," Al answered through clenched teeth, only halfway joking. "I'll be fine in a minute."

"We should take you to the school nurse." It wasn't David or Runner talking now, but it was definitely a guy.

"Don't need a doc," she answered, not bothering to look up.

"S'okay, the nurse is free," David answered. His next question wasn't directed to her. "Can you carry her, John? I don't think I can yet."

A boy who must have been John crouched down to her level. He had blonde hair and green eyes. He looked a tad lanky, probably a couple of inches taller than her brother "You okay with me carrying you?"

"M'fine."

"Al, please? You might've ripped your stitches," David pleaded.

She glowered as she looked up. "Fine, but I wanna walk." Al wouldn't allow herself to be carried unless she was unconscious or entirely unable to walk. It made her feel too vulnerable, like she couldn't fight back.

David nodded at the same time as John and they helped her stand up, allowing her to wrap an arm around each of them, though both had to crouch a bit to be of any use. Runner tagged along behind muttering something about girls, oblivious to all the stares that Al wished would turn away from their little group already. She didn't enjoy her weakness being showcased for David's entire school to see.

It didn't take long to reach the nurse's office, but it took longer than Al would have liked. She was just so damn tired. Maybe it had been a bad idea to come out here. She hadn't even really been able to talk to David and she had ended up aggravating her injury.

"Miss Greenbriar?" David called as they entered a small but tidy reception area. The head of the woman at the desk closest to them looked up. "We need to see Nurse Wilma."

"Oh, of course, dear. Go right on in. Is everything okay?" Miss Greenbriar, a pretty girl who could only be a year or two out of school, looked concerned.

"M'fine," Al answered wearily.

Nurse Wilma turned out to be an ugly woman with a jutting brow and a manly build. She was large and gruff enough to make Al fear for the condition of her stitches if the woman messed with them. She looked as likely to rip them out as look at them. The three other boys stepped out of the room to allow her privacy, since it was considered improper for a girl to show her calves in public. Having grown up with a gaggle of boys who grew up on the street, she wasn't used to worrying about the rules of propriety when she was hurt. At least, not the ridiculous ones like keeping her calves covered.

Nurse Wilma did not, in fact, rip out Al's stitches. As it turned out, they had barely opened up at all. It was nothing a little gauze and bandaging couldn't fix. Nurse Wilma seemed to assume she was a student, because when Al was all bandaged up, the older woman told her to get to class.

**_Disclaimer: John, Mrs. Greenbriar, and Nurse Wilma are all my OCs. No stealing! :P_**


	8. A Name

_**Author's Note: And here's the new chapter! A bajillion thank yous to Ealasaid Una, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, and destaaa246 for your awesome reviews! :)**_

**Chapter 8- A Name**

David was waiting with Runner outside the door when Al left the nurse's office. She looked paler than usual, probably a result of the pain, and her limp was decidedly more pronounced than it had been earlier.

"Where'd the blonde kid go?" she asked, looking tired.

"Class," David answered, feeling waves of worry wash over him. "Come on, let's get you home."

They started walking, making slow but sure progress through the hallways and toward the front gate.

"Don't ya have to go to class too?" Al questioned.

"It won't kill me to miss a few of 'em."

Runner was eyeing her with all the concern that David was feeling. Both of them were smart enough to keep their mouths closed. Beyond that, Al was too tired to be bothered to talk. So they ended up walking most of the way to the Lodge in silence.

Al was just starting to sway on her feet when David decided they should stop. She protested, but only half-heartedly. She didn't truly need coaxing to sit. Besides, they were at least halfway back to the Lodge. They found a stoop where she could sit beside him and lean her head on his shoulder while he thought about the whole dilemma of Shifty and Keeps being back.

"You're worried, aren't you?" David asked as Runner stood a few feet away, doing his best to sell some of their last papers. He could tell the younger boy was using their tired, injured selves as a ploy for gaining pity. David couldn't be sure whether it was working or not.

"If Jack's enemies is teamin' up, we got us a pretty big problem," Al answered.

"They're your enemies too." He didn't add _and mine_, even if he was thinking it.

Al shrugged against him.

He looked down as her eyes fluttered shut and then open again.

"Tell me a story."

"What?"

"Tell me a story," she insisted. "I'm tired and I want to hear a story."

"What kind of story?" he sighed, but with a grin on his lips.

"Tell me one about you and Sarah when you were kids," she responded. "You don't talk much 'bout when you were kids."

"Neither do you." She didn't respond and David huffed. "Sorry. Fine, let me think of one."

He deliberated a few moments before starting.

"When I was about six, there was this kid at school that used to pinch me all the time. It was this big kid, I think his name was Hugh or somethin' close. Anyway, I was his target for pinching an' I would come home with these big whelps on my arms from 'im. Well I never told my family where those whelps came from, but one day, when Sarah was with me on my way to class, Hugh came over and pinched me real hard on the arm. Sarah put two 'n' two together and she was furious. She grabbed the kid by the hair and yanked him back, then pinched him hard enough to leave a bruise that lasted nearly a week. She told 'im if she ever saw him so much as breath on me again, she'd do worse."

"That really happened?" Al asked. Runner had moved closer to listen to the story and now turned to look at David for his response. The older boy merely nodded. "Whoa, guess Sarah's got more nerve'n we give her credit for."

"Trust me," he answered. "You wouldn't want to see what would happen if she could get 'er hands on whoever jumped us."

"Especially now that I've taught her to fight," Al pointed out, her tired grin laced with mischief.

"_Especially_ now that you've taught her to fight," David agreed.

"I ain't sellin' any papes ovah here," Runner commented. "Can we go back to the Lodge now? I needa find me someone to walk to the WDC with me. Neither o' you are in any condition to come with me."

Despite the fact that he felt almost as tired and sore as Al looked, he nodded. "Can you make it, Al?"

"'Course I can make it," she responded with a dramatic roll of her very green eyes.

It took them longer than usual, but they made it back soon enough. David definitely did not want to have to walk home later, but he knew he would have to suck it up.

Jack greeted them as soon as they walked in, sporting a good-looking black eye and a relieved expression.

"Nice shinah," Al commented dropping onto the worn sofa in the front room. The impact made the bit David was sitting on rise a few inches.

"We almost match now," her older brother responded, referring to his sister's half-healed left eye.

"What happened?" David asked. "What'd you find out?"

Jack sighed, lifted his cap, and ran a hand through his hair. "Not much more'n we already knew. Someone doesn't like me much an' is gunnin' for head of the 'Hattan newsies."

"You find out who this guy is?" David questioned, wrapping one arm around Al's middle and pulling her closer.

Jack shook his head.

"Why won't he show his face?" David asked, frustrated. He was more talking to himself than to Jack, but it was Al who answered him.

"Because he's a damn coward. That's why." He could feel her grinding her teeth as her head leaned on his shoulder.

"We did find out that he's got somma my newsies on his side. None o' the Lodge boys, I'm sure, but somma our street boys." He shook his head almost sadly. David wondered if he was rethinking his decision to stay instead of riding off to Santa Fe. "An' it don't seem likely that yous two are outta dangah yet."

Al's eyes were closed, but she responded with a strong, "We can take 'em," before nodding off entirely. David moved slowly and laid her down across the couch. Jack helped him by lifting up her legs so she could sprawl out across it.

"She's had a long day," David said by way of explanation. Jack merely nodded as they moved further away from the couch to let her rest in peace. The two found chairs in the corner of the room close to Kloppman's desk and sat facing each other.

"You run 'em out?" David asked, still feeling immensely uneasy about the idea of Keeps and Shifty being in town. "Yeah, but they won't stay out long. Whoever this bum is, he's gonna make anothah move soon." Jack sighed. "Race is all sprung up like a coil."

"You mean coiled up like a spring?"

"Yeah, yeah. That's what I said." Jack dismissed David's correction with an impatient wave of his hand. "Look, I gotta think about some things, Davy. If anyone needs me I'll be up on the roof." With that, he left.

Something about the way he was acting sent up little red flags in David's brain. Jack knew, or suspected, more than he was letting on. It scared him to think that there was something more to this threat, something Jack was keeping them in the dark about. How could things get worse? David wasn't sure he wanted to know, but was certain he had to.

It was only once he woke up that David realized he had fallen asleep. He remembered having moved over to sit with his back against the couch, but that was the last thing. One look toward the open doorway told him it was getting near dusk. He would have to go home soon.

Al was talking to Matches, who was standing just outside the doorway, playing with his namesake.

Al was just wrapping up her conversation when she turned toward him. "You're awake! You drop 'bout the same time I did?"

"No, I talked to Jack for a bit."

At the troubled look he felt cross his own face, Al's brow knit together. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," David answered slowly, still processing what he was trying to say. "I just don't think he's tellin' us everything."

"That ain't like 'im."

"I know."

A long pause filtered into the room and Al was the one to break it. "Let's ask Race."

David agreed that it was a good idea, seeing as Al could needle nearly whatever she wanted from the Italian newsie. Even David considered Race to be her other brother. It didn't take them long to locate him. He was just down the street, smoking a cigar and pacing.

"Shouldn't you two be restin'?" he asked upon noticing their approach.

"We been restin' half the day away," Al smirked. "You doin' alright?"

"I'm worried."

"We noticed," David responded. "Look, we talked to Jack about Keeps an' Shifty and, well, we think he's leaving something else out."

Racetrack shrugged. "We don't know anythin' more'n that. If we did, do ya think we'd keep it from you?"

"If Jack thought there was good reason to," Al answered, eyes narrowing. "Come on, Race. I know you better'n that. There's gotta be somethin'."

"Well there ain't."

David shrugged, admitting defeat. Maybe he had been assuming things in his half-awake state. He probably was just exaggerating. There wasn't a trace of even a little white lie on Racetrack's face. Then again, Racetrack was the notorious gambler of the bunch.

Al apparently thought differently, though. She took one glance at David before exploding at Racetrack,"Dammit, Race!" Al yelled, startling David who hadn't anticipated her outburst. "How're we supposed to keep ourselves safe if you won't tell us what the threat is? I gotta know if I'm gonna be safe!" Al's face was red under the bruising and David assumed it was a mixture of what she had said and her beaten-but-ready-to-fight-again expression that made Racetrack's face crumble. He let out a sigh and tapped the ash off the end of his cigar.

"Fine," he answered hesitantly. "We . . . heard somethin'- we think we know the name of the leadah."

"And?" Al prompted impatiently.

"MacIntosh. We heard 'em say it as they was runnin' off . . . after they thought they'd lost us. Their leadah's name is MacIntosh."

"That means-" David said, heart falling into the pit of his stomach. He could see Al's face rapidly paling.

"Yeah, we think it's Quick Fists."

**_Disclaimer: Hugh & Matches are my characters._**

**_A/N: Also, the New York Newsies Awards Voting closes tomorrow! Don't forget to vote! There's a link on my profile for y'all if you need it. :)_**


	9. Suffocating

_**Author's Note: Whew! Here's another chapter. Be prepared: it's a tad weighty. This week has definitely been interesting. In most recent news, I dyed my hair purple (I love it!), it snowed (God, I hate cold weather . . .), and I woke up this morning sick (I blame it on the blasted weather). This coming week will also be hectic, so the updates may be a bit sporadic, but I'll do my best to get at least two new chapters up by Sunday. :) Also, NYNA (New York Newsies Awards) ends really soon (possibly in two days, but I'm too lazy to check), so make sure you get your voting in ASAP.  
>Lastly, I must thank my reviewers as always. Y'all are amazing and I really mean that. Reviews mean so much to an author and I do a little happy dance every time I see a new one. I love hearing your reactions, criticisms, and predictions. They mean the world to me! So, again, thank you so much Millie Jacobs, destaaa246, Ealasaid Una, The Broadway newsie, and woundedhearts for being there for me and making me smile. <strong>_

**Chapter 9- Suffocating**

_The cold shoulder, folded arms, and looking up  
><em>_You've never listened and carry on  
><em>_Careless, regardless  
>This is not a fire drill<br>__And if we hold any hope  
>It's harmonic connection and stereo symbiosis<br>__~Earth: Imogen Heap~_

Jack rubbed at his temples, begging for reprieve from the migraine that was currently pounding at his skull. He paced the roof, eyeing what he considered his domain and hoping against hope that it would stay that way- at least until he could find someone good enough to be his successor. He wanted someone that would do everything for the good of the newsies he commanded. He needed someone who would treat them fairly and love them like a family.

That wasn't what he needed to be worrying about right now, though. Not only were Shifty and Keeps back in town, but they were being led by Quick Fists. Even thinking the guy's name brought up images of Al at the tender age of nine, her body bruised and bloody, shivering in the summer heat.

The picture switched to her just a few days ago. Being older, the beating she had received hadn't quite taxed her body as much as the one she had received from Quick Fists, but he knew it still hurt her and that was killing him. He wondered how she would react when she realized MacIntosh had been responsible for both.

Jack clenched his fists and grit his teeth. He should have been there to protect her. Both times. He should have kept her safe. And now David was getting dragged into this and Jack wondered if the kid was in over his head. Jack couldn't even be sure that he himself wasn't.

He needed to go see Spot, he finally decided. The Brooklyn newsie needed to know that an old rival had sprouted back up. His challenging of Manhattan would be of concern to Brooklyn. Spot wouldn't want him in charge any more than Jack would.

They weren't what one would consider close. In fact, Jack had probably only seen Spot a total of four times since the 1899 newsies strike, but they were most definitely allies, no matter how infrequently they met up.

He was just turning to implement this plan when his sister burst through the door to the roof, David on her heels. She looked livid. Al didn't give him time to wonder what about. "Quick Fists, Jack? You were gonna hide that from me?" she all but screamed.

"Al-" Jack tried to calm her down.

"When were ya gonna tell me, huh? When were you gonna tell me that the guy who beat me to a damn pulp was back an' hot for our blood? When did you start hidin' things from me?" Her hands clenched and unclenched as she struggled to control herself.

Jack reached out to hold her by the shoulders, half out of self-preservation and half being to calm her down, but she pushed his arms out of the way and shoved his shoulders with her good arm, knocking him a stop or two backward.

He growled, trying to hold back his own Irish temper. "Al, ain't like that an' ya know it. I was gonna tell ya, but-"

"Oh really? When? Aftah he'd already beaten 'alf our boys an' thrown us outta 'Hattan?"

"Would you let me talk?" he shouted, shoving her backward this time.

"Jack!" David stepped forward, jaw clenched threateningly. Jack knew his friend was telling him to back off, but he didn't heed the warning.

Jack knew he had his sister's attention by the way she was glaring at him. "I was try'na figure out how to tell ya, but I wanted to have a plan foist."

The door opened up behind David and Jack saw Racetrack and Skittery come through it before he was distracted by his sister's yelling.

"How the hell were you expectin' me to protect myself if ya weren't gonna tell me what we're up against? You're so damn selfish! You're always thinkin' of just yourself!"

Jack felt his temper flare beyond what he could control, so he grit his teeth and walked past her, arms stiff with barely contained rage. "Piss off," he growled.

"Don't you walk away, you coward. I'm talking to you!" She grabbed his arm just above the elbow to spin him around and that was her fatal mistake. Before he could even comprehend what he was doing, he had spun around and backhanded her full across the face with the same hand she had reached for. The force of his hit sent her onto her rear with a cry of both pain and surprise.

"What the hell, Jack!" Racetrack's voice filtered into Jack's slow-moving mind just as he felt David's fist connect with his already bruised left eye.

He felt fire and stumbled backward. He watched dumbly as Al went running down the stairway (well, limping at a fast pace). David said something that, by his facial expression, wasn't too friendly but Jack was too deep in shock to grasp the words before his sister's beau went running (also limping) after her.

It wasn't until Racetrack had finished screaming at him that Jack felt like his hearing returned. He broke out of his dazed stupor with the equivalent of a choked gasp.

"Oh God," he moaned. "What did I do?"

"I'd sure as hell like an explanation," Skittery responded with his arms crossed over his chest and a hard look on his face.

About half an hour later, Jack was on his way to Brooklyn with Racetrack and Skittery trailing behind him. He had tried to go apologize to Al, knowing he had definitely crossed a line with her, but she was long gone from the Lodge by the time he had gone downstairs. Every time he thought about slapping her, he felt sick to his stomach. As if she wasn't already wounded enough! And he had gone and slapped her? He could only be thankful that his hit had been to her right side, because a slap on the left would have caught the cut there and done even worse damage.

His companions were silent as they walked through the half-deserted streets. Ever loyal to their leader, they were there to protect him from the threat of attack, but nothing more. They made no attempts at a conversation, too busy steaming in their prominent silence. He didn't have to ask to know they were both angry with him.

If only this city wasn't so damn suffocating. Jack felt claustrophobic on a daily basis. It was as if the tall buildings and the dirty streets were closing in on him, choking him from every side. He felt like those towering constructs were jeering at him, rooting for his failure, constricting the very air from his lungs. Jack tried his hardest to keep himself from regretting his decision to stay, but it was days like this that the silver lining eluded him.

He wanted out of this blasted city and it's filthy smog. He was tired of the power mongering and the threats that hung over the people he loved. He was sick of the responsibility he had shouldered since before he learned the meaning of the word. There was so much pressure on him from all sides that it often surprised him that he hadn't collapsed under it yet. Some days he was certain the next breath would be his last.

They were halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge before Race spoke to him. He matched strides with Manhattan's forlorn leader and eyed him before opening his mouth. "You alright?"

"I thought yous was mad."

"I am," Racetrack smirked, cigar dangling from his lips. "But I'm your friend as much as Al's an' you ain't lookin' so good."

Jack took a long time to respond. He looked out over the black water as he spoke. "You evah wish you could just run away from it all, Race? Just run an' nevah look back?"

"Yeah, almost every day."

Jack pondered this for a moment, turning it over in his head. "What makes ya stay?"

"You kiddin' me?" Race asked, removing his cigar so he could speak properly. "Yous guys are the only family that evah wanted me. I ain't givin' that up. 'Sides, it's not like I got a dream like you do. If I evah left, I'd come runnin' back within a week with my tail 'tween my legs and my money ready for the track."

Jack laughed despite himself and Racetrack offered him a half-cocked grin in return.

* * *

><p>"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in." Spot, ever the cordial host, slouched in his chair as the three Manhattaners were shown to the Brooklyn bunk room. He was in the middle of what appeared to be a rather intense game of poker.<p>

"We gotta talk, Conlon," Jack told him, cutting right to the chase.

"The game'll be done in five."

"It can't wait." Something about the seriousness in both Jack's expression and voice made Spot pause. His eyes narrowed as he studied his ally.

After a long second, his chair skidded awkwardly on the wood flooring as he pushed it back and stood, leaving his cards face down on the table. He jerked his head to the left, taking Jack into a small adjacent room boasting only a single window and a dilapidated dresser with a broken leg. Spot lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall.

"What's goin' on, Cowboy?"

"We got trouble in 'Hattan."

"So I've hoid. How're Ali'n Davy-boy?"

Jack winced. "They got hoit pretty bad, but they's healin' up."

Spot nodded gravely and waited for more information. Jack paused, trying to find a tactful way to say what he needed to. Finally, he settled on the direct route.

"Quick Fists MacIntosh is tryin' to take ovah my toif."

Spot's entire body went rigid. He looked like he had almost inhaled his cigarette. "What?"

"He's been behind all the attacks on my boys- includin' the one on Al'n David."

"Hell," Spot spat, his cigarette sat between his fingers, now clearly and easily forgotten as he began pacing the room slowly. "_Hell_. How sure are you?"

"Pretty sure."

Spot let out a weighty sigh. "An' I was sure today was gonna be a good'un."


	10. Comfort

_**Author's Note: As I mentioned once before in We Run the Papes, I love it when characters stand up and walk on their own legs. It's those moments when you feel like you've really made characters who are three dimensional. That's what happened with this chapter. I originally tried to write it with Al breaking down and crying on David's shoulder from the get go. It wasn't working out, so I took a break to ponder it when I realized - the reason it's not working is because that's not Al. She doesn't react the way I'm writing her. She's got to blow up and get mad. And that is what brings us to this chapter. **__**And I feel like the whole story's starting to do that now. The more I write, the more intricate and complicated it gets than I originally planned, because the characters are dictating the circumstances more than I am. I LOVE IT! Haha. But seriously. . .**_

_**To the many who reviewed last chapter: Thank you so much. Your responses mean the world to me & I love to hear what you're thinking as you read. :) Thank you Millie Jacobs, woundedhearts, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, LucyConlon, Rachel, Ealasaid Una, destaaa246, mysterygirl, and The Broadway Newsie!**_

_**Also, to mysterygirl, who has been an awesome and detailed reviewer. You're awesome and I love how lengthy your reviews are. I can never stop smiling when I read them! Anyway, I want to respond to your questions and such, but you're never logged in when you review. So if you could log in this time (or send me a private message or something) I could definitely get back to you on the things you're asking/talking about!**_

**Chapter 10- Comfort**

_Why is everything so confusing?_

_Maybe I'm just out of my mind_

_It's a damn cold night_

_Trying to figure out this life_

_Won't you take me by the hand_

_Take me somewhere new_

_~With You: Avril Lavigne~_

Al let the hot, angry tears flow down her cheeks and drip off her chin as she limped quickly as she could, trying to put as much distance between herself and the Lodge as possible. She moved quickly for a gimp, ignoring the pitying glances she received from every other New Yorker she passed.

David called her name from behind her, but stopped yelling once he caught up with her. Upon seeing that she wasn't ready to stop, he simply matched her pace and limped alongside her. He was out of breath by the time she stumbled and nearly face-planted in the middle of the sidewalk. He caught her free arm just in time to keep her on her feet. It wasn't until she was upright again that she burst into tears.

He tried to edge her over to a nearby bench, but she pulled herself away. "What the hell is goin' on?" she asked loudly as tears dripped down her face. She stumbled and leaned against a wall, turning to look at him with questioning eyes. She knew he didn't have any more answers than she did, but that didn't make things any less frustrating. She slammed down her fist on the brick wall at her side. "He hit me, David! He's nevah hit me before. Nevah."

She had to take a few deep breaths before the panic rising up in her chest would subside.

"It's not that big a deal, Al," David said, trying to soothe her. "Sarah's slapped me before."

Al glared at him, "You evah slapped her afore?"

"What? No."

"See?" she responded, pushing away his arm when he tried to rest it on her shoulder. "It's different. Anyway, if it's no big deal, why'd ya hit 'im?"

"Geez, Al. I didn't say it was okay! I just mean that it happens sometimes."

"Not between me'n Jack it don't." She pushed herself off the wall in anger, but didn't seem to know what to do with herself. She wanted to get in a fight, go hit someone, but in this condition she was likely to just get herself hurt. Her hands curled into fists and her nails dug into the tender flesh of her palms. Her voice got softer until it was nearly a whimper. "He promised he'd nevah lay a hand on me. Least, not outta angah. Not aftah the way our parents treated us. He swore it. He swore it."

David moved to stand in front of her and placed a hand gently on her face. "Al, he's not perfect. Yeah, Jack screwed up and he screwed up pretty bad. But he still loves you. Nothing's changed there and it never will." His voice softened even more as he wiped tears gently from his face with both thumbs, his hands now on either side of her face. "You got every right to be pissed. Hell, _I'm_ pissed beyond belief an' Jack's gonna have a lot of apologizin' to do when we see 'im next, but you he loves you more than anything else in the world. You _know_ that."

Al closed her eyes and sniffed loudly, wanting for all the world to curl up inside herself and stay there. She wanted to push David away and bottle everything up inside her the way she had always done before. They may have been together for two years now, but old habits die hard, especially in hard times like these.

She had been taught by the world around her that when things got tough, you had to defend yourself, shield yourself from everyone else. And here David was, trying to keep her from drawing away from him. In fact, he seemed to think she _needed_ to be vulnerable. It made everything inside of her flip-flop uncomfortably. It just didn't make sense to her.

She knew he was waiting for a response, any kind of response, but the battle inside her was waging on. She needed to be alone, but she needed David's strength. She needed peace and quiet, but she needed to hear his voice reassuring her.

Still fighting herself, she opened her eyes and side-stepped out of his grip before reaching into her skirt pocket for her back of cigarettes. She lit it and breathed in the soothing harshness of the tobacco, taking comfort in its cold familiarity before gesturing in a way that asked David if he would like a drag. He shook his head slightly and continued to watch her as if trying to figure her out.

_Good luck with that, Davy-boy,_ she thought bitterly. _You manage that and you'll be accomplishing something I never could._

They stood in silence for a while, David watching Al as her cigarette burned it's way down to her fingertips. It wasn't until it was in danger of burning her skin that she dropped it on the ground. It seemed to be the action David needed to break him out of his reverie.

"Come on, why don't we go see one o' Medda's shows. That'll take your mind offa things."

Al was certain she had never heard a better offer in her life.

Medda was more than willing to set them up in one of the balcony boxes overhanging the stage after fussing over them long enough to almost miss the start of her own production. It was a great performance. Al leaned her head on David's shoulder and allowed herself to get lost in the music and the comedy of it all. Whoever came up with vaudeville was definitely a winner in her book and Medda glowed as the star of her own show.

When it ended, they were ushered into her sitting room where she was changing out her costume behind a large screen.

"Toby, get 'em some coffee and something to munch on, will you?" she called from behind it. Toby ducked out of the room, still fully in costume, presumably obeying his boss's orders. David and Al took their usual seats there - Al in a high-backed, dark pink chair with paisley patterns all over it; David in a square-like red chair situated diagonally from her. Medda came back out in a less showy green gown that somehow managed to look both comfortable and incredibly glamorous.

She seated herself in the rounded, high-backed, lime green chair that seemed to be her favorite. The combination of greens made her hair look as if it were on fire and her pale skin as if it were shining. It was a nearly blinding combination.

"Oh you two," she cooed, looking dangerously close to being distraught. "I just can't get over how bad you look. Just terrible."

Al sipped at her coffee, glad at least that Medda didn't go into her usual rant about not having seen them in a month or two. It's not like they were avoiding her. Life was just busy and she lived a good ways away from the Lodge.

"I'd heard rumors that you were attacked, of course, but I assumed- Oh, never mind. Does it hurt badly? Are you feeling alright? Need more coffee?"

It took another ten minutes to convince her that they were perfectly fine.

"So how is school going, David? Are you enjoying it?" she asked.

He shrugged. "It's alright, I guess. 'Course, I'd rather be sellin', but if I want to be a reporter, I probably need the schooling."

"A reporter!" Medda exclaimed as if she hadn't heard his ambition a thousand times by now. "This is your last year of school, right? Any jobs lined up?"

"As a matter of fact," David said with a toothy grin that scrunched the freckles on his nose so that they looked like one massive freckle. He turned to look at Al as he spoke as if she had been the one to ask. "Denton's promised me a job at the Sun this summer."

"What?" Al asked, the pleasantly surprised exclamation flying from her lips immediately.

"That's wonderful, David! Congratulations." Medda beamed as if her only son had received top marks on his exams.

"When did this 'appen?" Al questioned.

"The night we got jumped. I was gonna tell you on the way home, but we kinda got interrupted." He turned back to Medda. "Now, it's not anything big, but it's a start."

Al nodded, but the smile didn't slide from her face as they continued to chat with the woman who would always drop everything to help them. Thirty minutes later, they were ushered out the theatre's side door and told to hurry home. As the doors clanged closed behind them, Al grinned up at David. She put her good hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. They lingered in it for as long as they could manage, holding on to that happy moment on a day that had gone from bad to worse and all before sundown. When he pulled back, he was grinning back at her that nearly reached each ear.

"I'm sorry ya got overlooked in all the crazy stuff that's been 'appenin'," she told him sincerely, her hand slipped down to his as they started to make the trek home. "I'm real excited for you, Davy."

He beamed down at her, clearly overjoyed at her approval. Al's stomach flipped pleasantly. Sometimes she thought she would shoulder the world if it meant seeing him happy like this.

"Who knows," she laughed, beaming back up at him and winking. "Ya might even get to do an interview with the President to kick things off."

David reddened, "Oh, I don't know. I don't think-"

"Relax, Questions. I was just messin' with you."

Al was glad of the distraction of David's announcement. Once he kissed her goodnight and left her at the Lodge, she felt the weight of it all come crashing down on her head again. Suddenly, she felt weary. More weary than she cared to admit. After making sure Dutchy and Specs were walking David home, Al collapsed onto the couch that backed up to the stairs. Careful not to fall asleep this time, she leaned back and tried not to drown in her emotions.

"Heya, Cap!" A voice called out, followed moments later by the feeling that the seat next to her had sunk down a bit. Al cracked her eyes open and gave Runner a fond smile.

"How ya doin', Runner?"

His black eye almost looked comical above the lopsided grin he offered her. "Real good. Race gave me a nickel to buy some chocolate with. You want a piece?" He started to dig in his pocket for the aforementioned sweet.

"Naw, that's alright," she answered. "You do anythin' else today?"

"Snipeshooter said I look like a scrappah with my black eye," he announced proudly. Then, after a moment's hesitation, added, "What's a scrappah?"

Al grinned down at him and ruffled his hair with her left hand. "Mean's you's a fightah."

His grin broadened. Al laughed in response, but it was cut off by a deep yawn. She was more exhausted than she had realized.

"You tired, Al?" he asked.

"It's been a long day, hon, which means you'd bettah get to bed."

After tucking him in and telling him some half-baked story that had Specs snickering from its absurdity behind the day's paper he was reading a few bunks away, she headed upstairs. David's mom was always saying that sleep fixes everything and now, more than ever, she wanted that to be true. She wanted to lay down, cocoon herself under her blanket, and sink into the pleasant bliss that is unconsciousness and not wake up until she absolutely had to.

That was what she had intended to do. Al was rudely woken up, though, in the middle of the night by someone crashing about in the other room. Immediately, on the alert, she shot up in bed, wondering why on earth Jack would make so much noise. She knew the answer without having to ask the question. Jack didn't crash about before bed. If he were home, he would have immediately dropped onto the sofa and into a dreamless sleep.

In fact, she very much doubted that he would come home that night. She had been informed after putting Runner to sleep that Jack had gone to Brooklyn with Racetrack and Skittery to see Spot not long after the incident on the roof. It was common knowledge that walking home from Brooklyn after dark was the epitome of stupidity. He would have stayed the night with the boys.

This realization brought forth the imminent possibility that Al was in mortal peril. Or, at least some level of peril that may be slightly less than mortal.

After a muttered curse that told her the intruder was getting closer to her bedroom, she slipped off the side of her small bed and reached for the wooden baseball bat that she kept hidden under her bed. It was really old and the handle was covered in bite marks where someone's dog had mutilated it. Mush had found it in the attic when they were clearing the space that gave the newsies access to their apartment and Al had decided to keep it in case she ever had issue with burglars. It looked like the weathered bat was about to prove itself useful.

Keeping her breathing as quiet as humanly possible, she sidled up against the wall, holding the bat high above her head with her left hand, trying not to let it shake. If these were those bastards from the alleyway coming to get another shot at her, they sure as hell had another thing coming if they thought she was going to go down without a fight. She was going to beat them to a pulp, even if she only had a baseball bat and one good leg. They were gonna wish they had been more thorough with the beating they had given her by the time she was finished with them.

The shuffling footsteps drew close to the door. Al scoffed inwardly. They couldn't even do their job right. How hard was it to sneak around an apartment without giving it's one inhabitant a heads-up to the fact that they weren't alone? Al knew she wasn't exactly a heavy sleeper, but she figured it couldn't be that hard to walk on your toes and avoid ramming into things.

The knob twisted and a head peeked through. It was too dark to see anything but the man's silhouette, but that was all she needed.

With all the effort she could throw into it, she swung her left arm and made direct contact with the top of the man's head. A howl answered and the door slammed closed just as she heard a thud on the other side of the door.

"Gah! My head!" came the voice from the other room.

Al clenched her teeth in frustration. She had hoped that one hit would have done enough damage to knock the intruder unconscious. Her heart hammered a tattoo against the inside of her chest. She had trouble hearing over it. She wondered if he was the only intruder or if there were more with him. Should she move to a more defensible location or hold her ground?

"Dammit, Al! What the hell was that for?"

It was only then that Al recognized the voice. Setting the bat against the wall, close enough that she could grab it again if she was mistaken, she inched the door open a crack.

"Blink?"

"Who else would it be?"

She opened it all the way and stepped over her fallen friend to reach the light switch. The bulb hanging over the sofa flooded the room with yellowed light. Blink was pushing himself off the floor with one hand, holding his aching head with the other, and glaring at her with his one good eye.

"Why the hell would you hit me ovah the head with whatevah the hell that was?"

"What were you sneakin' around in my apartment in the middle o' the night for?" she responded defensively, both irritated by the fact that she had been woken up in the middle of the night and at the fact that he was looking at her like it was her fault she had been terrified half out of her mind.

Kid Blink grumbled something under his breath before answering. "I was checkin' to make sure you'd got back alright. Mush said he'd seen you'n Jack storm outta here and nobody who was awake knew if you'd come back yet." He dropped onto the couch, sitting on the blanket crumpled up at the end where Jack's feet usually went.

"Well I'm back," she huffed, motioning to herself with her good arm. "An' I was asleep until you started bangin' around and scarin' the life outta me."

Blink looked up at her and his browed furrowed as he saw the anger on her face. She was close to tears and didn't know why. She just knew that she was mad and Blink seemed to be the only reason for it. The tow-headed teen in front of her let out a sigh and patted the seat cushion beside him on the sofa.

Al grit her teeth, intent at first to deny his offer, but she was tired and the obstinacy crumbled faster than she could have anticipated. She huffed and dropped down next to him, laying her head on his shoulder and doing her best not to cry. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she curled up next to him, sliding her toes underneath Jack's abandoned pillow.

"I'm guessin' you found out?" he finally asked, after a long silence.

"Dammit, Blink," Al huffed, not moving her head from his shoulder. She looked straight forward, not really seeing the wood in front of her, but looking through it. "Foist Shifty an' Keeps gotta show up, then that goil that's been hangin' all ovah Davy kicked my bad leg, then I find out it's prolly Quick Fists who planned the attack on me'n Davy, and Jack hits me. I don't think I've 'ad a longah day."

If Blink registered any surprise at the last fact, he didn't show it. He just let out a heavy sigh.

"Things ain't evah gonna be easy, Al," he told her, sounding almost regretful that the fact was true. He squeezed her gently with the arm wrapped around her. "But you're tough, ya always 'ave been. We'll all get through this. I promise."

For some reason it was enough to calm her down. Kid Blink had always had this strange ability to know exactly what to say to calm her down. She knew it was probably because, like Race and Jack were always saying, they were the most alike out of all the newsies. Somehow their brains just seemed to be eerily similar when it came to most things. They had the same temperament. They probably couldn't look any more different, but it was hard to think of a way that they could be any more similar when it came to the way they thought.

"Why don't ya get some sleep?" he suggested, nudging her a little. "Everything always looks bettah aftah some shut-eye." He reached across her to grab the pillow Jack normally used and set it in his lap. She didn't need to be told twice. She laid her head on the pillow and let Blink stroke her hair as tears slid from the corners of her eyes. She didn't know how long it took her to fall asleep, but when she finally did, it was a blissfully dreamless one. And when she woke in the morning, she was alone, her head still on Jack's pillow, his blanket keeping her warm in the early morning chill.


	11. Sounds Beautiful

_**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to upload this one. I went on a family vacation to England over the weekend and didn't come back until Tuesday. Since then I've just been working to catch up on schoolwork, which may very well be the death of me. Haha.**_

_**Many thank you's to The Broadway newsie, Ealasaid Una, woundedhearts, mysterygirl, Rachel, and destaaa246 for your spectacular reviews! :)**_

**Chapter 11- Sounds Beautiful**

David woke up with a heavy foreboding weighing him down. Things weren't looking so great on the newsie front and it was enough to make him want to lay in bed all day. He huffed out his breath and climbed over a sleeping Les to get out of the room. Trudging into the bathroom, he brushed his teeth and splashed water in his face before studying himself in the mirror.

His bruises were still rather pronounced. That was to be expected, since a full week hadn't yet passed from his being attacked. The gash on the side of his face was now a long, darks scab. On the bright side, his eye was opening more and it didn't hurt as much when he blinked anymore.

When he changed into his school clothes, which consisted of a pair of black trousers and his blue button-down shirt, he checked the status of his healing stitches. Those gashes seemed to finally be closing up. The area around the stitches was a slightly irritated red, but nothing that decried infection. For that, he was increasingly thankful.

When he entered the kitchen, he found his sister eyeing the contents of the refrigerator while she tied a handkerchief into her hair. She finally shut it and grabbed an apple before dropping into one of the chairs at the table. It was at that point she seemed to notice him.

"Mornin', Davy," she said softly, smiling at him. "How're you feelin'?

"Well enough," he answered, grabbing himself an apple and sitting down beside her. "Things've been pretty crazy, ya know."

She seemed to contemplate his words as she bit into her apple. "How _are_ things at the Lodge lately?"

David let out a long sigh. "Jack seems to think Quick Fists is the one gunnin' for his spot as head of the newsies. You know, the one that beat up Al when they lived in Brooklyn?" Comprehension dawned on her face and she looked like she felt sick. She set down her apple half-eaten. "Jack's so wound up that he hit Al when she confronted him about it." He went on to explain the entirety of the previous day's events. By the time he had finished, her breakfast had long since been forgotten.

"So what's gonna happen?" she finally asked.

"I don't know," David answered honestly. "Al says this isn't the way newsies usually fight their battles. Normally it's all straightforward fist fights, not all this going behind people's backs and instillin' fear." He sighed. "It's enough to drive ya crazy."

Sarah looked out the window, looking like she was lost in thought. After a long pause, David finally asked, "How's work?"

"Huh?" she turned to squint at him before what he'd asked seemed to register. "Oh, well, Maggie was right about Mr. Willet being a tough one. He made three girls cry yesterday just 'cause he got in a fight with his wife the night before." She shook her head as if clearing her thoughts. "Anyway, I better get going or he'll on my case all morning." She stood and furrowed her brows at David as if she wanted to ask a question.

David looked at her expectantly.

"Hey, David, would you mind picking me up after work if it's not too much trouble? Or having one of the other guys do it if you're feelin' too weak? I wanted to swing by the Lodge and see everyone." She looked like she thought she might be asking too much.

"Yeah, no problem," he assured her. "If I'm not feelin' up to it, I'll see if Mush can come get you."

She grinned at that. David knew Mush was the one newsie besides Jack and Al that Sarah really felt comfortable with. She liked most of the guys, but their personalities were a bit too rough for her at times. Mush's personality just fit best with hers that way.

Dropping down to kiss him on the forehead, she gave him a rushed goodbye and headed out the door.

Sure enough, when he was released from school that afternoon, Al was flanked by none other than Mush Meyers himself.

"How ya doin', Mush?" David asked after he had kissed Al in greeting.

His typically wide grin spread wide across his face as he looked at the two of them. If there was anyone in the world who could be labelled a hopeless romantic, it was Mush. His brown eyes seemed to twinkle with glee every time he saw the two of them together.

"Not too bad, David. Not too bad. An' yourself?"

"I been better," he laughed. "I sure am ready to be outta school, though." He paused and looked at both Mush and Al. "Hey, Sarah told me this mornin' that she wanted to drop by the Lodge. Think you're up to stopping by her work?" He was mostly talking to Al, but knew she would appreciate his not singling her out.

"Jack wouldn't let me sell today, so I got all the energy in the woild," she answered with a roll of her eyes. She set off immediately and it took the two boys a second to realize she was moving without them.

David fell in step beside her and looked over tentatively. He didn't want to broach the subject of Jack, but he figured he needed to be kept up to date on his girlfriend and her brother. "So, you talked to Jack?" he said delicately, cradling the words as if they were prone to hit the concrete and shatter upon impact.

She made a soft sighing noise in the back of her throat. "Yeah, sorta." He looked at Mush over her head and he shrugged. David waited expectantly and she gave him a sidelong look through narrowed eyes before continuing, "He said 'e was sorry for hittin' me and that 'e didn't wanna argue, but he thought it'd be bettah if I waited 'til tomorrow to sell again. Though, I think he's plannin' on talking about what we're gonna do 'bout Quick Fists tonight."

David nodded, slightly surprised that she had let Jack tell her to stay home today. It wasn't like her to not argue her side when she thought others were being stupid. Then again, she wasn't used to being scared that her brother would lash back physically. What had happened yesterday had really shaken her and, perhaps, she had agreed with his decision to stay behind because she didn't want to face the fact that Jack had really scared her the day before.

"I met a goil yesterday," Mush announced seconds later. Al groaned threw her hand up in the air. David cast an amused glance at the both of them. "She ain't anything like Abby, I promise."

Al gave him a disbelieving look. It had only been a few weeks since Mush had brought Abby back to the Lodge to meet Al. Most of the newsies considered Al their sister, so it was natural that they bring back their girls to get her approval at times. Skittery had done so with Maggie, as had Specs when he dated Felicity for a couple of months last year. The encounter hadn't gone nearly as well as Mush had hoped it would. Five minutes into the meeting, Mush had gone to the restroom and Abby had insulted Al to her face. David had never asked for many details, but Mush said he had just walked back into the room when Al's fist connected with the girl's face.

David had to admit that one of the things he loved about his girl was that she fought like a boy. Where a girl generally fought with her words and cutting remarks, Al had grown up with boys and therefore settled disagreements with her fists. He didn't know why he enjoyed that aspect of her personality, only that it always made him smile. Even if it did get her in more trouble than they needed.

Anyway, when Al had relayed to Mush the goings-on of the meeting in his absence, he dumped Abby and moved on. Understandably, though, Al had lost her confidence in his taste in women.

Al was opening her mouth to respond when a man's raised voice cut her off. "Jacobs! What the hell are you doing dawdling over there? Get over here!"

David jumped, thinking at first that the yelling was directed at him. Then he realized that they had just reached the place where Sarah worked.

"I said, get over here!" the voice repeated itself.

"Yes, sir." It was clearly Sarah's voice responding. "Did you need something, sir?"

"Did I need something? What is this?" There was a pause. "What kind of work is this? Fix it! Now."

"But sir, my shift is ov-"

"NOW, JACOBS!"

David grit his teeth, doing his best to quell the anger that was rising in the pit of his stomach. He glanced over at his friends and saw Mush with his brow furrowed and Al looking surprised. Maggie had told them all that Mr. Willet was a jerk before Sarah took the job, and he remembered his sister saying something about him making girls cry the day before, but hearing someone yell at his sister like that was not something he had expected. In all honesty, he was ready to go in there and tell that man he had no right to talk to her like that when Sarah came walking out the door. She grinned when she saw them all there. Then realization that they had heard the exchange a few moments before flooded her features.

She huffed and commenced in sugar-coating the ordeal. "I did some sloppy sewing on one of the shirtwaists. Only took a second to mend."

"Does he always talk to you like that?" Al asked, crossing her left arm over the sling that held her right one. She looked about ready to march in there and tell that man exactly what she thought of him. David thought he might join her when she did.

"Listen," Sarah said, her voice getting hard as she stared all three of them down. "One of you sets foot in there and I'll be out of a job, so don't you even dare saying a word to him. I'm fine and I can handle him myself." She started to march off and the three of them exchanged glances before Mush shrugged and followed. David and Al pulled up in the rear.

"It's been a while since I seen your sistah at the Lodge," Al commented. "I'm glad she's comin' today."

"Yeah, an' I'll bet Jack'll be glad to see her too."

Al nodded and the two of them fell into silence as easily as Mush and Sarah struck up a conversation. David watched Al out of the corner of his eyes, watching the choppy layers of her hair swing back and forth, covering and uncovering the scab that had formed over the gash above her right eyebrow. Beside that, her face looked untouched from this angle. Her hair was nearly black, quite a few shades darker than Jack's, and it complimented her sun-kissed skin beautifully. Her summer tan from being outdoors near constantly would start to fade in the winter, but she would look no less beautiful.

She glanced at him and narrowed her eyes playfully before focusing back on whatever thoughts were whirring through her head. It was that moment when David realized Al was the very woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The admission snuck up on him with all the creeping grace of a jungle cat, but it didn't surprise him when it came into full view. In fact, David wondered just how long he had been well aware of the fact, yet had never admitted it.

He thought back to a few months ago when Al had come over. She had gone into Sarah's room to borrow something. He couldn't remember what it was now. Perhaps a hair accessory or a necklace. What he did remember was that he had approached the door, intending to knock, but had instead overheard his sister and his girl talking in low tones that were still audible from where he stood.

"I absolutely don't believe you," Sarah's voice sounded rife with amusement.

"Well it's true."

"No. Every girl tests her name out with the boy she fancies' last name."

"Yeah, well I nevah grew up with goils for friends," Al responded even as David's heart leapt into his throat. She sounded both amused and annoyed at the same time.

"Alison Jacobs. Melissa Jacobs." Sarah giggled. "They both sound lovely. Here you are, Mrs. Jacobs."

"Aw, shaddup," Al responded flippantly, but she didn't sound annoyed anymore. In fact, she followed up her command with a giggle of her own.

David had hurried away from the door, his request for the location of his tie forgotten until Al emerged a quarter of an hour later, wanting to know why David wasn't ready to go yet.

_Mrs. Ali Jacobs,_ he thought, a smile budding on his lips despite himself. _God, that sounds beautiful._

That afternoon, only a couple of hours after they had reached the Lodge, Jack called a meeting with most of the older newsies from the Lodge. That meant he, Al, David, Kid Blink, Mush, Specs, Skittery, Racetrack, and of course Sarah were all crammed into a booth at Tibby's. The place that had once been overcrowded by newsies during the strike when Denton paid for everyone's meals was now nearly empty, save a few older couples and a man eating dinner by himself in the far corner. The newsies still frequented the joint when they could afford it, but usually closer to the lunch hour, when they were exhausted after a hard morning's work and needed a bit of rejuvenation before they could be expected to finish the day out.

Now, however, the nine teenagers were the only patrons under the age of thirty.

David sat on the edge of the booth seat, Al on his left and Sarah on her left. A table had been pulled up so that Specs sat on David's right, with Jack at the "head" of the table. To Jack's right sat Skittery, Racetrack, Mush, and Kid Blink in that order so that David was in the direct line of fire when it came to the puffs of smoke Racetrack blew out his mouth every few seconds.

For some reason, Crutchy popped into David's head as he sat there, sipping his Coca-Cola and waiting for Jack to tell them what exactly it was he wanted to go over tonight. None of them had seen the smiling crippled teen since he'd left New York City for what he called "a better world" almost a year ago. He never told them what exactly that meant. In fact, Crutchy hadn't even told anyone besides Al that he was leaving before he had hightailed it out of the Lodging House. But that was common practice when it came to newsies growing up or just leaving. Al had explained it not long after her and Jack's own return from nearly leaving the city.

Newsies just didn't do goodbyes. Generally speaking, they would often just up and leave one day. No prior notice required. Of course, when it came to the Lodge boys, Al had made it apparent years ago, long before the strike, that if any one of them left without letting her know, she would track them down and beat them to a pulp. It was too often that newsies didn't know if their friends had been murdered, kidnapped, or had simply run away. Al amended that by somehow managing to get the guys to come to her when they were leaving and tell her. She promised not to try to stop them. She would announce it to the rest whenever they started looking for their missing friend.

David thought it was a rather morbid way to live and he knew that Al hated having to be the bearer of bad news, but someone had to do it. David had heard the announcement of Crutchy, Bumlets, and Itey's departures all from her lips. He didn't doubt the tradition would continue for as long as Al was connected to the Lodge. Itey had written for the first few months, just to let everyone know how he was doing and so he could hear from the only home he had ever truly had every once in a while. They had expected the same from Crutchy, but a letter had never come. They had given up hoping for word from the ex-newsie.

David was torn from his reverie when Jack cleared his throat, commanding silence at the table. Al munched on a basket of fries Blink had ordered and was sharing with the girls and Mush. Racetrack took another puff of his cigar as his eyes swiveled in the direction of the current leader of the Manhattan newsboys.

Instead of Jack speaking up first, Al's voice startled him from his left. "So MacIntosh is behind the beatings our boys've been takin'," she addressed her brother, conveniently leaving out the still obvious bruising on herself and David. "So what're we gonna do about it?"

Jack ran a hand through his hair. "Well, now that we know who we _think_ is behind it," he said, giving them all a pointed look. "We oughta be able to find 'im an' challenge 'im without all the hubbub. Get this ovah with before someone gets hoit worse than they already have." He made a point of looking at everyone except Al and David.

"Well why's he been actin' like this if all 'e wanted to do was challenge ya?" Mush asked, displaying the half-chewed contents of his mouth as he spoke. "I mean, why'd 'e have to go poundin' on Al 'n' Davy 'n' the othahs?"

Blink struck a match against the table and held the blazing end to his cigarette, puffing at it until it caught. He put out the match and shrugged in response to his friend's question. "Prolly wanted to cut down on anybody who thought they'd try challenging him aftah he beat Jack out for head o' the newsies." When Jack threw him a look bearing raised eyebrows, Blink added, "_If _he beat 'im, that is."

"Didn't you say he used to be head of Brooklyn?" Sarah asked. Jack shot her an irritated look which caught David off guard. When Racetrack responded in the affirmative, she continued, either not seeing or not caring that Jack appeared to want her silence more than her input. "Well, he can't expect Spot Conlon to just roll over and let him do this, can he? I mean, wouldn't that upset Spot?"

In all her time hanging around the newsies and dating Jack, Sarah had only ever actually met the infamous Spot Conlon once, and only for a few seconds then. Long enough for her to catch the fact that he and Al didn't get along particularly well, but nothing more. She had been told enough stories to give her a more than adequate picture of his nature and character, though.

"Yeah," Jack answered brusquely. "But Spot's got more'n enough to worry about on his side of the rivah without addin' 'Hattan into the mix. He don't like MacIntosh any more'n the rest of us do an' he's got our backs if it turns out to be an all-out toif war or sommat, but that don't mean he can prevent it any more'n we can when push comes to shove."

"You talked to 'im yesterday, didn't ya?" Specs observed. "He say anything useful?"

"Does he evah?" Al commented under her breath, causing David to choke on his soda.

Jack waited until David had finished hacking to continue, "Yeah, we talked a little while. An' he made a good point 'bout how Quick Fist's got all the marbles. We can't let it stay that way. Boys, that means it's our move." He put his hands behind his head and leaned back as if distinctly pleased with himself.

"An' how're we gonna do that?" Skittery questioned.

"Yeah, we don't even know where he's at," Specs agreed.

Jack shook his head, as if they were too simpleminded to understand the complexity that was his thought process. "We're gonna find 'im and we're gonna make him wish he hadn't messed with us," he told them seriously. "An' once we find 'im, I'm gonna fight 'im, throw him outta 'Hattan, and make sure he nevah so much as thinks about us again." His gaze paused on Al and David for a brief second before going on. "Then we'll finally get this outta our way and go on with life."

**_Disclaimer: Mr. Willet, Abby, and Felicity are all my OC's. No stealing! :P_**


	12. It's Complicated

_**Author's Note: I was going to wait to post this until I had finished writing Chapter 13 (as you may have picked up, I have enjoyed being a couple of chapters ahead of y'all throughout most of the writing of this series), but it's turning out to be longer than I expected and I'm going out with some friends tonight. (Apparently, it's frowned upon if you stay in from a night out just so you can read/write more than one night in a row.) I figured I would leave y'all with this chapter in the meantime.**_

**_As usual, I'd like to thank my amazing reviewers. As much as I enjoy writing this story, I don't know that I'd keep trying so hard if it wasn't for knowing that y'all are eagerly anticipating each new piece of the story. So thank you woundedhearts, Kraken, The Broadway newsie, Rachel, and Ealasaid Una for bringing a smile to my face. :)_**

**Chapter 12- It's Complicated**

After another forty-five minutes of planning and discussing, the newsies and Sarah headed back to the Lodge. David and Sarah stayed for only an hour before heading home with Les, who had been picked up by Runner and Listener after school. The three were escorted home by Skittery and Racetrack under Jack's orders. Though Sarah could now fight reasonably well, she was still new at it, David was still banged up, and Les was hardly big enough to make much of a difference in a fight. Boots was teaching the youngest Jacobs how to use that slingshot he had been given for his birthday, though. Jack made a mental note to see how he was progressing at it when he found the time.

The moment the group got out the door, Al almost immediately relocated to the bunk room, practically running to get away from her brother as if she were scared he would hit her again. His stomach twisted painfully in recalling their exchange that morning. He had apologized and everything and then she had just nodded and slipped out the door at the first opportunity. He wondered how long it would take her to come back around. He missed his sister already.

He followed her into the bunk room with less enthusiasm than denoted the newsie known as Cowboy. He spotted Al immediately, talking with Snitch in the corner while she inspected the stitches she had given him a few weeks ago. It was about time she removed them, now that the wound was starting to heal up. For her lack of legitimate medical training, his sister sure had some skill when it came to doctoring up the boys at the Lodge. She had only grown better at it with time. Her discovery of the medical section of the library had also helped immensely.

Snoddy, Dutchy, Snipeshooter, and Racetrack were involved in a game of poker that Racetrack was undoubtedly winning. Mush was telling Jake, Boots, and Matches a story and appeared to have them hanging off every word. The kid had always been rather good at weaving tall tales on the drop of a hat. It never ceased to amaze Jack how easily he could keep the younger kids still for so long.

His brow furrowed when he didn't see Runner among the kids. Then again, he didn't see Blink around either. He took a few long strides to the washroom and, as he had suspected he would, found Runner sitting on an overturned wash bin, with his eyes glued on Kid Blink and Specs. They old two boys were busy shaving while they discussed selling spots and tactics. Runner seemed to be taking in every word and it made the corner of Jack's mouth turn upward in a grin.

He doubted the older boys even realized they had an audience at the moment. That was one of the things Jack admired most about the boy. He was a listener, one of those quiet types that could sneak up on you, and he was cleverer than most kids his age. Jack figured it was from all that listening he did. He just absorbed information. Not only was he smart, but he was also ornery and one hell of a fighter. He had learned fast.

Blink acknowledged Jack with a nod of his head before returning to his conversation. Specs ignored him, but he had his glasses off. In all fairness, he probably hadn't noticed Jack any more than he had noticed Runner.

"Ain't it about time you's was gettin' to bed?" he asked.

Kid Blink turned to raise an eyebrow at the newsie leader, only to see Runner out of the corner of his eye. He nearly dropped his blade in surprise, confirming Jack's suspicion that the two older boys had been unaware of the boy's presence in the room. "God, kid, you sure know how to sneak."

Runner grinned, pleased with himself, as he stood and followed the older newsie out of the room.

"Ya know," Runner pointed out as he followed Jack to where the boy occupied a bottom bunk beside Snipeshooter. "I ain't a little kid no more. I don't have to go to bed afore everyone else."

"I know that," Jack said, mussing up the boy's blonde hair before dropping onto the boy's bunk. "That was just my excuse so's I could talk to ya without everybody else tryin'a listen in."

This brought a smile back to Runner's lips and he plopped down next to the older boy he so admired. Jack noticed his eye had finally turned a deep shade of purple from the hit he'd taken the day before. He tried not to think about the fact that now the kid matched both he and Al, each of them having received their black eyes from the henchman of a certain hated enemy.

"What'd you wanna talk to me about?" Runner asked excitedly.

"You know how everythin's been crazy these past couple weeks with Al'n David gettin' hoit, the boys that got hoit before then, an' Shifty'n Keeps showin' up in town?"

Runner nodded. "Same person's behind 'em both?"

Jack's brow furrowed. None of the younger boys were supposed to know about that just yet. They were keeping it under wraps so that word wouldn't get back to Quick Fists that they had figured things out. Jack was doing his best to make sure they did everything they could to keep the bastard from getting the drop on them. That meant they had to stay a step ahead the whole way.

Jack cocked his head to the side, "How'd you know about that, kid?"

"Makes sense, don't it?" Runner said. "Shifty'n Keeps is too scared o' you to come back on their own."

Jack grinned at the boy's statement. It wasn't really an answer, but he let it pass. "Yeah, that's right."

Runner didn't respond, but waited expectantly for Jack to continue.

"Anyway, I need you to do somethin' special for me, alright?" Jack waited until the boy nodded, a gravely serious look on his face as he listened intently. "You're gonna be my spy."

"Spy?" he repeated in a deathly quiet whisper. Jack couldn't help but notice the difference between this kid and David's little brother. He was ridiculously fond of both boys, but they couldn't be more different. If Jack had been talking to Les right now, the kid would have shouted "I get to be a spy!" loud enough for Brooklyn to hear it.

It was funny how two boys so terribly different could be so inseparable.

"Yes, a spy," Jack confirmed. "I need ya to keep your ears open an' report back to me. Tell me if you hear anything outta the ordinary. Anything 'bout Quick Fists or where he's hidin' out. Anything 'bout any 'Hattan newsies changin' their 'legiances. You hear me?"

Runner nodded, but his eyes were so wide they looked ready to pop out of their sockets. They had shot wider than Jack thought he had ever seen them the moment the older newsie had uttered the name, "Quick Fists".

The boy swallowed dramatically, blinking his big blue eyes owlishly as he stared at Jack. "Ya mean, Quick Fists is the reason everybody been gettin' hoit?" Everyone knew the story of how Jack and Al had started the Brooklyn newsie war that had landed them in Manhattan, Quick Fists out on his rear, and Spot in charge of Brooklyn. It had become something akin to folklore among the newsies of New York.

"M'afraid so, kid."

Runner's brow furrowed for a moment and then he gave Jack the most serious look he could. He puffed up his chest and tilted his chin up a bit. "I'll do my best, Cowboy. I'll find out everythin' I can."

"I'm proud o' ya, Runner." Jack grabbed the boy with one arm, pulling him into a sort of half-hug as he mussed up the smaller kid's hair again. When Runner pulled away, he was grinning from ear to ear from Jack's praise. "Just be cool about it all. Keep yourself safe and outta trouble, okay? I don't want you interferin' in nothing, just listenin'. Okay?"

"Got it."

"Now, get some shut-eye, kid. You got a big day ahead o' ya."

Jack headed upstairs a few minutes later. Ducking through the doorway to the apartment he shared with his sister, he found her sitting on the sofa trying to knit with her right arm still in that sling. It looked incredibly awkward and Jack was laughing before he even had time to remember that he and his sister weren't on the greatest of terms.

Al dropped the needles out of surprise, then glowered at him before picking them up with her left hand. "You probably made me drop a stitch," she told him disdainfully. She made no move to examine it, though, opting to leave it unattended in her lap instead.

"Why were you tryin' to knit in your condition anyway?" he chuckled.

"Sarah only just started teachin' me a week or two afore I got hoit an' I want to make sure I ain't gonna forget," she huffed. Then her face softened and she looked down at her lap. "'Sides, I was waitin' for ya to come up. I wanted to talk to you."

Jack's brow furrowed as he took off his jacket and threw it onto a chair near the sofa before sitting down in said chair. She always averted her eyes whenever she was about to say something she thought the other person would perceive as unpleasant and the realization of that fact made Jack's stomach turn in anticipation of whatever it was she had to say.

"Yeah?" he responded softly, not easily forgetting that she was still acting timid around him since the hit. He didn't like seeing his normally ornery sister act all skittish like this. It just wasn't natural. It wasn't Al.

"Look, Jack, I know things've been rough, but ya gotta stop takin' it out on everyone else," she told him haltingly. As if an unseen hand were fighting her to make her lift her chin, she reluctantly looked him in the eye and continued. "I ain't just talkin' 'bout you smackin' me yesterday. You been quieter'n usual and you shoulda seen the way you was treatin' Sarah at dinnah."

"The way I was treatin' Sarah?" he responded, more indignant than he had meant it to be.

She raised an eyebrow, giving him the _You're kidding me, right?_ look she was so good at giving. "Yeah. It was like every woid she said was irritatin' or something. You two get in a fight that I don't know about?"

"No."

"Then I don't see any reason why you oughta be treatin' your goil like that. She's just tryin' to help. An' we aren't the only ones having a hard time lately. She's gotta be outside of it, worryin' alla time about how we're doing. Only, she's gotta wait for David to come home afore she can find out what's goin' on. That's gotta drive her nuts! Plus, things at woik aren't goin' so well eithah." Her earlier reservation seemed to be evaporating the more she talked and for that Jack was thankful.

"Woik?"

"I dunno what's goin' on there, but her boss is a bastard sure as I evah spotted one. He's real mean to 'er. I think Davy's gonna try to get her to quit if the guy keeps yellin' at 'er like that." Al yawned and stood, holding her knitting in her free hand. "I'm beat. I'll see ya in the mornin', Jack." And with that, she disappeared into her room, leaving Jack to ponder everything his sister had just told him.

Was he really taking out his frustrations on everyone else? Then again, how could he even ask that question after what happened last night.

Frustrated and tired, he turned off the lights, stripped down to his long johns and plopped onto the couch. Normally the type to be out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow, Jack found himself exceedingly annoyed when he was still awake fifteen minutes later. His mind kept flitting between topics, from Sarah to feeling trapped in New York, from Al to the conversation at dinner, from Quick Fists to whether Runner would find any information, and from Sarah getting harassed at work to how quickly David and Al would recover. He couldn't make it settle on any one thing and that only proved to cause his frustration to mount.

He decided to get himself a glass of water and afterwards chose pacing as the best way to expend the extra energy holed up inside of him. Where that energy was coming from, Jack didn't know. What he did know was that his life needed to un-complicate itself and fast.

When he woke the next morning, it was to the smell of something cooking. Before he even had time to lift his head, he had already made up his mind about two things: (1) He needed his sister back to her usual self and (2) Sarah wasn't going to have to take any more crap from her employer. He didn't know how he was going to do the latter - though it would likely require a visit to Skittery's girl for information and a bit of intimidation for her boss. The former he was going to fix right now, no matter what it took.

Jack sat up and stretched before making his way over to the kitchen. A grin immediately graced his features. Al was making pancakes, which meant they were feeding all the Lodge boys today. Already, she had about seven pancakes stacked on a plate and was working on the eighth.

The Kelly siblings had always been ones to save any extra income. With Jack as leader of the Manhattan newsies and Al as what amounted to his second-in-command, they felt responsible for the boys who so often looked to them for guidance. With the couple of extra cents they saved each day from the fact that they no longer paid their own rent, they were able to spend a little extra on food. They were accustomed to hunger and knew each of the newsies were no strangers to missed meals and empty stomachs. Every once in a while, when they could spare it, they would treat the boys to some of Al's pancakes for breakfast. Most of them could last on that for the rest of the day.

"The boys're gonna be real excited," Jack told her as he moved back to the couch. He knew Al would want him to put up his pillow and blanket before they invited the boys up.

She looked at him over her shoulder as he stifled a yawn. "You sleep any last night? Ya look awful."

"Thanks, that's just what I was hopin' to hear this mornin'," he laughed. After stowing the pillow and blanket in her room, he pulled a pair of trousers over his long johns and popped his suspenders over his shoulders after he had buttoned up his shirt. As a last touch, he tied his red bandana around his neck before eyeing his sister once again. "Hey, Al?"

"Yeah?" she called, not looking up from her work.

"Look, I know you're still mad at me for what I did an' how I been actin'. I'm real sorry, Ali. I just . . ." He couldn't think of anything else to say and whatever words he had been about to say died on his lips.

Al looked up and pursed her lips. Her hair was still a mess and there was flour on the front of her blouse, just above where her right arm hung in its sling. He felt an overwhelming fondness for his sister and wondered what he would ever do without her.

"Ya know I can't be mad at you long, Jack. You're my best friend. You- ya just scared me is all. I know ya didn't mean to." She used the back of her hand to wipe her forehead and flipped the pancake on the skillet, revealing it's light brown side. A smirk appeared on her lips as she watched it cook. "But I swear to God, Jack. You evah pull somethin' like that again an' I'll soak ya so good you'll look like Morris Delancey even aftah you heal up."

Jack smiled and couldn't resist pulling his little sister into a quick hug. He pressed his lips against the side of her head as she whacked his arm with the spatula. "Go get the boys afore they run off an' miss out on breakfast," she ordered him.

"Aye, aye, Cap."

She groaned good-naturedly even as he loped toward the door, feeling lighter than he'd felt in days.

**_Disclaimer: The only reason you recognize Listener is because he was also in "We Run the Papes". He's my character, spawned from my own incredibly overactive imagination._**


	13. Confrontation

_**Author's Note: Oops! So I forgot to tell y'all in the last update that the results for the 2012 Winter New York Newsies Awards have been posted. Great news, guys: "We Run the Papes" came away with three awards. It received "Best Adventure", tied for "Best Friendship", and Alison received the award for best OC. Thanks to all of y'all who either nominated or voted for me. Y'all are amazing!  
>Also, I can't help but mention that fact that I've found a video on YouTube that basically made my day yesterday. Someone put the song "Just Dance" by Lady GaGa over the King of New York dance number and it somehow works perfectly. It had me cracking up and watching it multiple times. If you wanna check it out, just search (King of New York - Newsies).<br>**__**Lastly, I want to thank those who reviewed the last chapter. Y'all mean the world to me. Thank you destaaa246, The Broadway newsie, Ealasaid Una, and woundedhearts. :)**_

**Chapter 13- Confrontation**

_Fight like your life depends  
><em>_'Cause at your last breath you can't do it again  
><em>_There's no time to pass the buck  
><em>_And there's no time to strut  
><em>_Son, ya gotta knuckle up  
><em>_~Hillstreet Blues: Maj~_

One week and one day later, Al found herself ready and excited for the new day when she woke up. The bargain she had set with her brother was this: if they hadn't found the location of MacIntosh and his boys by October 9th, she would be allowed to join in the search for him. And true to form, thus far the search had been basically fruitless. As far as they knew, he could be hiding anywhere on the outskirts of Manhattan or within it. How they had managed to keep such a low profile, no one quite knew. Al figured it had something to do with Quick Fist's chops when it came to intimidation. He was rather adept in the area.

As Al recalled, he always had been:

_Melissa Sullivan tripped over a rather sketchy patch of cobblestone and stumbled, skinning her knee on the hard ground. The seven-year-old was running like mad, just behind her brother, a wildly terrified look in her eyes and an apple in each hand. She hopped up and risked a glance back only to find that the owner of the cart they had stolen from was gaining on them much faster than she had hoped for such a large old man._

_"Come on, Lissa!" Francis urged, he swiftly sprinted to a corner and disappeared around it. Lissa followed as closely as she dared, here heart stuck in her throat. She knew she wasn't supposed to steal, but she was just so hungry. And Francis said it was the only way. They had to steal or starve. Given the choice, Lissa would chose theft any day. She had quickly decided that being hungry was the worst feeling she had ever experienced. Then again, seven-year-olds are prone to exaggeration._

_It took them a good five minutes before they lost the fat old man. Once he was sure they were safe, Francis had them stop in an alleyway. He cleared a spot on two wooden crates so they could sit and catch their breaths. They weren't there long when teenager with tanned skin and bleach-blonde hair strolled toward them with purpose. Francis immediately froze up and grabbed his sister's arm, clearly ready to run if need be._

_"Relax, kid. I ain't gonna hoit ya." The older boy told them, lifting his hands in surrender. Lissa noted he still wore a heavy smirk. "Name's General. You steal those?"_

_Lissa nodded. Francis just stared, clearly still trying to weigh the threat General posed._

_"You's got names?"_

_Lissa opened her mouth to respond, but Francis beat her to it. "My name's . . .uh . . . Jack. Yeah, I'm Jack. An' this is my sistah," he paused and glanced toward her. _

_"I'm Ali," she stated matter-of-fact. If there was one thing she had learned in the past few years, it was to never contradict her brother when he lied. She needed to always go along with it. He generally had a good reason for it and it often could mean the difference between a beating and getting off the hook._

_"Okay, Jack an' Ali. I got a proposition for ya. How's about I get you a place to stay, some protection, an' a job? All you's gotta do is lend me one o' them apples an' follow me."_

_Jack looked down at the unspoiled apple in his left hand for a moment before handing it over wordlessly._

_"Alright, kids. Follow me," General told them. He bit into the apple with a loud crunch._

_Twenty minutes passed and they found themselves at the Brooklyn Newsboys Lodging House. General declared that he would be presenting the two to the fiercest newsie around. eight-year-old Jack held his sister's hand tightly. There was no complaining on her end. She was just as nervous as he was, wondering what exactly they had gotten themselves into._

_General looked back with that smirk of his still firmly set on his lips. "Ain't nothin' for you to be worried about. I'm takin' you to the leader of the Brooklyn newsies. 'is name is Quick Fists MacIntosh. He won't hoit ya if you don't give 'im cause to. Yous two don't seem like the type to get yourselves inna trouble. Just keep ya mouths shut unless he asks ya sommat an' do whatevah he tells you. No talkin' back, ya hear?"_

_Both children nodded._

_Quick Fists was just as intimidating as Ali had expected him to be. With eyes so dark they almost looked black and hair that matched them falling in bits over his eyes, he watched them approach. He was built well - strong jaw, heavy on the muscles, and big hands - he looked like the type you wouldn't want to mess with if your life depended on it. He narrowed his eyes at them and spoke to General without looking at him. "Who're the runts?"_

_"Found 'em at down near St. Brinam Street. Been stealin' food. Thought they might need a place to stay an' woik." _

_Quick Fists leaned back against the wall of the lodge and crossed his hands over his chest, eyeing the two kids, looking each of them up and down. His eyes settled on Jack. "How old are ya?"_

_"I'm eight. She's seven." His voice shook a little, but his face betrayed none of his fear. He wanted to look strong before the teenager appraising him._

_"You evah sold paper before?"_

_"No."_

_"You know how to lie?"_

_"'Course I do," he answered, puffing his chest out proudly._

_Quick Fists nodded before turning his gaze on Ali while still talking to Jack. "You can join us, but girls ain't meant to be newsies. I know of a girls home not far from 'ere." _

_"I'm not leavin' my sister." _

_Ali crossed her arms across her chest and stepped forward even as Quick Fists opened his mouth to respond. "If Jack gets to be a newsie, so do I," she told him. "I can lie just as good as he can an' I bet I can sell paper better'n you." _

_General coughed, startled, and Jack grabbed his sister's upper arm, pulling her back so they were level with each other again. Quick Fists stood and his eyes narrowed once again. He moved so close to Ali's face that she nearly choked on the scent of tobacco that clung to his breath. "Ya got a mouth on ya, I'll give you that much. Tell ya what - I'll give ya a chance. One chance." He paused, studying the seven-year-old who was standing her ground the best she knew how. "But don't you evah challenge me again or I'll make you regret it."_

It wasn't that she was eager to see the guy again, but the simple fact was that she and Jack knew him better than anyone else in Manhattan and were the most likely to find him was undeniable. It made her uneasy, knowing he was just under her nose, and she wasn't going to be able to rest soundly until he was once again a foul memory. Taking matters into her own hands seemed like the best solution to the problem at hand. It at least made her feel like _something_ was in her control.

Taking off her sling, she gingerly tested out the appendage she had hardly used for the last few weeks. She knew she really ought to keep it on longer, but the break would be mostly healed by now and she technically didn't need it right now. The sling would only give her identity away and, as long as she avoided doing anything that caused her pain, things should be fine.

After pulling on a pair of breeches, she used scraps of the dress that had been ruined when Quick Fist's boys attacked her and Davy to bind up her chest enough to make her breasts at least a bit less noticeable. She was careful to bind them loosely enough that she wouldn't inhibit her ability to breath. She then put on her oversized blue button-up shirt, slinging each of side of her suspenders over her shoulder. Al cringed as she reached for her vest and had to pause until the pain in her collarbone subsided.

_Don't reach too far forward. Check._ She pulled her arm back, vest in hand and put it on, her movements a bit more gingerly this time. Rubbing at the collarbone, she could feel a little bump where the broken bone was doing it's best to repair itself. She wondered if it was visible, but didn't put the effort into checking.

She tied her hair up, sure to let some of the shorter layers escape so it would look like her hair was cut short. She rubbed some dirt into her face and smiled at the effect. The bruising did well in hiding her feminine facial features. What it didn't catch, the dirt did. She was ready to go find Quick Fists now.

She pulled on her boots in the living room, noting the absence of her brother, before heading down to the Lodge. There was a definite bounce in her step. The lack of a sling gave her a sense of freedom she had missed for the past two weeks. Plus, the idea that she was about to join the fight against the man who had hurt her meant the world to her.

"You can't tell me to go home. That's not your job."

Al had almost had the door shut when she heard Sarah's voice coming from upstairs. That meant David was here. Excitement bubbled up in her stomach, making it flip the way it often did when David was around. She forced herself to squelch the feeling for now. She needed to sate her curiosity. Who was Sarah talking to and why did she sound so upset?

"Sarah, it ain't safe an' you know that. You's gonna get hoit." That was Jack. Now she _had_ to eavesdrop.

"Al didn't teach me to fight for nothin'. I can take care of myself now. I'm not helpless."

Al moved closer to where the short stairway that lead to the roof sat. She could see the door hanging slightly ajar and the blue sky beyond it. She glanced at her own surroundings and crouched behind an old mattress that stood leading against an old dresser, praying the action wouldn't cause her to come face to face with a rat. Luck held out as she leaned against the dusty wall and continued to listen in on the conversation between her brother and his girl.

"I nevah said you were," Jack growled, reigning in his frustration as best he could. "But I don't want you goin' out there and comin' back lookin' like Al."

That stung, but Al made no move to leave.

"I want to help," Sarah stated plainly.

"Well, ya can't. I'm leadah of the 'Hattan newsies. I got the right to tell you to go home an' that's exactly what I'm tellin' ya. Go. Home." Those seemed to be his final words, because seconds later, she heard his heavy footsteps clomping their way down the few steps that led to the attic. Al watched him make his way to the door that lead to the Lodge without bothering to look back. When a frustrated scream sounded above them, Al saw Jack hesitate for a split second in grabbing the doorknob. Then he grasped the knob and slipped into the Lodge.

Al stayed hidden for a moment, processing what had just happened. She understood that Jack didn't want Sarah getting hurt, but to flat out tell his girl to go home? She cringed. Though Jack had walked away, she doubted it was the end of the argument. Leaving Sarah up on the rooftop, flustered and angry, wasn't going to resolve anything.

Deciding that speculating in a dark corner of the attic wasn't going to help anything, she had just started to move out of her hiding place when she heard Sarah hurrying her way down the steps. Instead of following Jack down to the Lodge, she went to the door that lead to Al and Jack's apartment. Outside it, she sniffed and wiped away the tears on her face with the backs of her hands before easing the door open and going inside.

Confused, Al crept up behind her and was standing in the doorway when Sarah called for her.

"Ya need somethin'?" Al asked.

Sarah jumped and turned around. Her eyes carried a hint of pinkness from her crying and she was wringing her hands. She looked Al up and down, studying her boyish appearance. Al wondered if she was remembering the first time they had met, when she and Jack had walked into the Jacobs' apartment look

"I- uh," Sarah hedged. She thought for a moment, then sighed heavily. A defeated look settled heavily on her shoulders. "I wanna help find Quick Fists. I'm tired of sittin' around and waiting for one of you to come back hurt or worse. 'Sides, it's Saturday and I've got nothing to do but drive myself crazy at home. Jack says that's where I oughta go and that I'll just get myself hoit, but-"

Al sighed and grabbed her friend's hand, pulling her into the bedroom. She shut the door behind them and moved over to the wardrobe. She moved toward the set of drawers as Sarah watched, looking immensely confused. "What are-"

"We're makin' you a boy for the day," Al grinned over her shoulder at the older girl. "You's is gonna accompany me in findin' Quick Fists. Jack said I needed to bring someone with me. He didn't say who."

Sarah's smile at the prospect of being able to help lit up her face and dispelled any lingering doubts about the wisdom of her actions. Twenty minutes later, Sarah was all done up in one of Jack's old shirts and suspenders along with Al's old shoes. Her hair was braided up, ready to be tucked into a cap.

After making a trip down to the bunk room, she found that most of the boys had already gone off to sell. Racetrack had doubled back with enough papers for Al. He had picked them up when he realized she wouldn't be ready in time to pick them up herself. He handed them over as she asked for a pair of his trousers.

"What? You gain some weight an' can't fit into yours anymore?" he had asked. "Those look fine to me."

Al had dropped her voice to the merest of whispers. "They're for Sarah. She's comin' with me. An' I swear, Race, if you tell Jack I'll make you wish you'd been born without a tongue."

Racetrack had leaned back and grinned. "What else do ya need?"

So Sarah found herself dressed in Racetrack's breeches, Blink's cap, Skittery's suspender's and Mush's vest. Racetrack and Al had looted their things and taken them upstairs for Sarah to use. Race stayed in the living room, intent on seeing the product of Al's ministrations. Al had shaken her head and rolled her eyes at the newsie, but understood his determination to see Sarah dressed like a boy. How often did one get the chance to see Sarah that way?

When she brought Sarah out, Racetrack looked impressed. "Good job, Al. I can't even recognize 'er."

Sarah grinned, causing him to scowl.

"What?" Sarah asked.

"Try not to smile, doll. You'll give yourself away at foist glance. Looks too feminine." He came up behind them as, by unspoken agreement, they all made their way down to the street through the Lodge. He clapped them both on their shoulders. "Now, don't you goils go forgettin'. Just 'cause you's two look like boys at foist glance don't mean you'll fool anybody for more'n a couple o' minutes. 'Specially you, Al. Half o' New York knows what you look like as a boy already."

"Yeah, yeah. We know," Al responded airily.

"Take care o' yourselves. Don't give Cowboy a reason to kill me if 'e evah finds out I helped ya."

Racetrack split ways with them and Al handed Sarah twenty or so of her papers. Race had only bought fifty so they wouldn't be burdened down by them. Yes, they were supposed to be putting all of their focus on finding Quick Fists and his boys, but they might as well go ahead and make some money while they're at it. Al gave her a few pointers on selling as they walked, then moved on to explaining their plan for the day.

"So basically, we're just gonna go around an' talk to people. That's all," Al explained. "We don't know where MacIntosh is, so we've gotta ask around, drop hints, that sorta thing. Follow my lead."

Sarah nodded, staying solemn as they walked further out of the center of Manhattan, keeping away from the Brooklyn border to keep herself from being recognized. Quick Fists would have to be incredibly dense to trap himself between Brooklyn and Manhattan. No, he'd keep further away from his old haunting grounds. He'd stay closer to Bronx or Queens if she knew him at all.

"So you'n Jack," Al hedged. "You doin' alright?" She didn't mean to pry, but couldn't help herself. She couldn't get the argument she had overheard earlier out of her head.

"I don't know," Sarah answered honestly. "We hardly see each other anymore an' when we do we're either fightin' or irritatin' each other. I guess he's just stressed about everything that's goin' on, ya know?"

Al nodded. "I'm sure he'll come around once things get a little bettah."

"Yeah. I guess."

They fell into a somewhat awkward silence after that. Sarah grew distant, lost in thought, as Al tried to keep herself from pondering the finer details of the relationships between her brother and David's sister. It really wasn't any of her business.

When they deemed themselves far enough from the Lodge, the two started hawking headlines. Sarah wasn't too great at it, but she really didn't need to be. The papers were, first and foremost, a prop. They could always sell the extras back to Mr. Mayfield at the end of the day, no harm done.

Just as she expected, the two girls were confronted by three newsies within the next ten minutes, clearly angry at them for selling too close to them. Al pushed her hat down a little further over her eyes as they approached. She felt Sarah stiffen and prayed the girl wouldn't give the two of them away. The one on the far left was vaguely familiar to Al, but she didn't recognize the two beside him. Hopefully none recognized her. The newsies had acquired a lot of new meat since the strike two years back.

"Hey, whattaya think you're doin', sellin' ovah here? This area's taken already." The one in the middle was doing the talking while the other two tried to look intimidating. It wasn't working out too well for them, Al decided. The one doing the talking was the only one that looked like a threat. Then again, looks could be deceiving.

"Sorry boys," Al drawled, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a cigarette for herself. "We's a little new to the whole newsie gig. Don't rightly know how it woiks just yet."

The boys on either side of the kid in the middle relaxed a little as she lit up her cigarette and pulled in a deep drag of it. She pulled it away from her lips with her forefinger and thumb. "You know a good spot where we can sell without any hassle? We don't wanna cause no trouble." She went through the extra trouble of making herself as grammatically incorrect as possible, distancing herself from the way she usually spoke. Deepening her voice came on instinct, even after two years of waltzing around in girl clothes, but she didn't want to take any chances.

Sarah shifted beside her and Al hoped she didn't look too nervous.

"Sure," the leader of the three answered. He pointed in a north-easterly direction. "Head that way about five minutes an' you oughta be in the clear. Say, what's your name, anyway?"

"Name's Questions," Al answered easily, taking the name she often teasingly referred to David with. She picked a name from the top of her head for Sarah. "This here's me friend, Trigger. He don't talk much."

"Well, you's two stay away from our selling' spots, ya hear?"

"'Course. No harm, no foul," Al answered easily. She took another puff from her cigarette. "Hey, you know who the leadah is 'round here? Like I said, we's new. Don't wanna get on anyone's bad side."

"You're lookin' for Cowboy," the kid on the right told her, eyeing her cigarette like he was dying for a drag. Al guessed the kid had lost all his earnings in a poker game or snatched by a pickpocket and couldn't afford to buy himself any more. It had happened to half of the Lodge boys more than once. Luckily for them, most of them weren't too picky about sharing.

"Cowboy?" Al asked, feigning ignorance as a way of needling for more information.

"Yeah, Cowboy. Also goes by Jack Kelly. He's head o' the 'Hattan newsies. Didn't ya hear 'bout the strike two years ago?"

"Naw, been livin' on Staten 'til just recently and we wasn't newsies then," Al lied smoothly. "Why? What 'appened?"

"He, his sistah, Cap, and the Walkin' Mouth took on Pulitzer. That's why the Distribution Center buys back our papes if we got any extras at the end of the day," he answered.

"Huh."

"Right unnatural havin' a goil as a newsie," the one of the left told her seriously. "But I seen 'er fight an' she ain't kiddin' around."

"Ya don't say?" Al responded, feigning surprise, though she was internally pleased at the praise, even if it came at the end of something akin to an insult. "A goil newsie?"

"Yeah, she 'd been pretending she was a boy up until Cowboy got arrested and woid got out. It's a long story, but now woid is that she'n the Walkin' Mouth are togethah."

Al nodded, and seeing that this conversation was going nowhere, decided to get out of it. "Well goils, it's been nice gossipin' with ya." She smirked as the slight caused the three boys to bristle. "But we's gotta get to sellin'. Which way do I go again?"

The kid in the middle smirked and pointed, but straight northward this time, rather than north-east. "That way, straight'n true," he answered.

"Thanks for ya help."

The two girls disguised as boys hurried north and Sarah didn't relax until the other newsies were well out of sight.

Al laughed, "Relax, Sarah. We coulda taken them. They had no reason to jump us anyways. It was an honest mistake."

"Except it wasn't," she retorted, pinching her lips together. "Why did they switch directions on us? They told us to go that way the first time."

"They think we're stupider than we are," Al responded. "This way's more dangerous for some reason an' I'm willing to bet it's because Quick Fists is this way. Stay on ya toes, hon."

"Great," Sarah mumbled under her breath. Anxiety rolled off of her shoulders in waves as they continued walking.

Al did her best to appear entirely nonchalant as they made their way through the streets, but she couldn't help stiffening up as well. She kept her eyes peeled, wondering if she ought to have brought David or Racetrack along with them. If they were outnumbered by more than one or two, she doubted they would make it back to the Lodge in one piece. It was at this point that she began to question the wisdom of bringing Sarah along with her. Sarah wasn't used to getting hurt. She didn't deserve to be subjected to a beating.

_If Quick Fists shows up, I'll distract him and get her to run for help._ Al told herself, eager to have at least a semblance of a plan. _If she makes a run for it, she'll be safe and then I won't have to worry about her and could keep busy with fending for myself._

No sooner had she decided on this course of action then a voice called out from behind her.

"Why, if it ain't a pair of newsies. You's two lost? You ain't welcome here."

Al recognized the voice immediately, but it wasn't the one she had been expecting. She stopped in her tracks, a look of disbelief undoubtedly clinging to her features.

"Al?" Sarah whispered, having stopped as well.

"You hear me?" the voice called out again. "I think we're gonna have to teach 'em a lesson 'bout respect, Morris."

Al turned around fully as a disbelieving smirk graced her face. "You've gotta be kiddin'. The Delanceys?" Al felt like bursting into laughter out of the sheer shock of seeing these two again. She had always assumed that they had booked it out of Manhattan after the strike. Who knew they were right under her nose the whole time? "You're the big 'dangah' those kids were tryin' to send us into?"

"Why, if it isn't Cap Kelly," Oscar smirked. "Oh, this'll be fun."

"You bet it will," Al mumbled, amusement quickly fading as Oscar started to crack his knuckles. Morris was already reaching into his back pocket, no doubt grasping at his trusty brass knuckles.

He jerked his chin at Sarah. "Who's the guy? You get tired of that Davy kid already?"

Al bristled, but it was Sarah who responded. "What? You don't recognize me?" she intoned. "Shoulda known you had a short attention span." She pulled off her hat and shoved it in her back pocket, revealing her braided hair. Al thought it was a rather bold move, but she liked it. These were the Delanceys they were facing, not Quick Fists or his boys. It seemed Sarah was much like Jack in displaying a bit of theatrics before a fight. The thought in itself made Al throw back a grin.

Morris's lip curled up in a sneer as he eyed Sarah. "Cowboy's goil."

"So Cowboy's lettin' his goils outta his sight now," Oscar crooned. "I think we oughta show 'em what a good time looks like while they here." He and his brother advanced slowly, swaggering with an air of defiance that practically dared the girls to try to run. Al figured these two had spent too much time around newsies who weren't strong enough to beat their egos down to size. She figured it was about time someone knocked some sense into them. She was more than happy to do the honors.

"I couldn't agree more," Sarah responded with a raised eyebrow. "I couldn't think of a better way to spend my day than to give of the two bastards who hurt my family a couple of bruises."

Al took a second to glance at her friend. She had never seen Sarah's eyes flash with the ferocity she saw in them now. Sarah's anger seemed to be overwhelming even her jitters about this being her first fight. Al figured she needed this fight. With all her fighting with Jack, seeing the people she loved getting hurt, and having to take hell from her boss at work, it was probably nice to have the chance to take it out on someone. This was going to be good.

Al moved first, deciding she wasn't going to let the Delanceys dictate the terms of this fight. She moved toward Morris after a split second's decision. Oscar may be better in terms of actual fighting, but Morris was bigger and had the brass knuckles. Plus, he tended to get a little 'handsy' when it came to Sarah. Al chose to protect her friend the best way she could by taking him down first.

She charged at Morris, ducked under the swing he tried to send at her head, and landed a good punch to his gut. A feral growl slipped through his lips as he stumbled backward. She misjudged his recovery time by a split second and found herself being thrown against the wall of the building beside them a second later, his hands having grasped her vest and swinging her over there. His brass knuckled hand sunk into the tender flesh of her stomach and she wheezed, but refused to buckle.

She kicked his shin and sidestepped away from the wall, knowing she fared better when she wasn't being cornered. She didn't want to use her right arm, for fear of aggravating her collarbone injury, but threw a punch with it anyway. She got a good shot to his cheek just below the bone even as pain radiated across her chest. Drawing her arm back to her middle out of instinct, she had a moment's respite as Morris grabbed at his face.

"What's wrong, Morris? 'Fraid you're gettin' uglier with every hit?" Al asked cheekily as she danced backward, still trying to recover her breath from the hit she had just taken and the pain in her chest. "Ya got nothin' to worry about. I don't think it's possible."

The insult caused Morris to charge her like a bull seeing red, exactly what she was hoping for. In two years, his fighting style hadn't changed much. She played chicken with his charging form, waiting until he was nearly upon her to slide to her right. She jumped to the side and kicked out at him. Her foot connected with his ribs and he hit the ground and rolled a few feet. His body slammed into Oscar's legs, who was busy clutching at a profusely bloody nose and the two tumbled on top of one another. They didn't even try to get back up.

Al waved the older girl over, Sarah came immediately and the two headed by unspoken agreement back toward the Lodge. It was about time they got back. David was supposed to meet up with her around lunchtime, after all, and Al didn't want to miss any time with him. She was a little disappointed that they hadn't found any information on where Quick Fists was hiding, but the smile on Sarah's face and the ecstasy that came with a good victory was enough to make up for it.

They turned the corner, walking quickly in case the Delancey brothers got up and decided they wanted a surprise rematch, and Sarah lifted her right hand. She gave a little wiggle of her fingers, displaying the blood that painted the back of her hand.

"I broke his nose," she stated proudly.

She reminded Al of David on their way back from his first foray in Brooklyn, back when she found out his peace talking wasn't borne out of an actual fear of fighting. The kid could hold his own in a fight, she had discovered. He had broken Checkers' nose and Al couldn't have been more surprised. Now, two years later, his older sister was walking beside her, grinning about having won her first fight.

It's funny how the world turns.

**_Disclaimer: General is my OC. Everyone else (except those I have previously claimed) are property of Disney._**


	14. Sit Down

_**Author's Note: I've almost reached the end of the story on my laptop! It's looking like How the World Turns will have 21 chapters, altogether. :)  
>A huge thank you to woundedhearts, The Broadway newsie, It'sTheBatmanShirt, , and Ealasaid Una for your lovely reviews. You have no idea how much each one means to me!<br>**_

**Chapter 14- Sit Down**

_Close enough to start a war  
><em>_All that I have is on the floor  
><em>_God only knows what we're fighting for  
><em>_All that I say, you always say more  
>I can't keep up with your turning tables<br>~Turning Tables: Adele~ _

David was always being underestimated.

He was perfectly aware of the phenomenon, he just didn't know why. Perhaps he looked like a slacker or just had one of those faces. Regardless of the cause, though, it happened often enough to be considered fact. He was scorned at school because his girl and his best friends were newsies. He was frowned upon among the newsies for going to school. When it came to fighting, his constant urging for peace was thought a sign of weakness.

He supposed it worked in his favor, though, because he seemed to always be exceeding the expectations placed upon him. He always proved them wrong. He was one of the most clever kids in school, a pretty decent newsie, and a damn good fighter.

Case in point stood before him in the form of Grub. David had probably seen the kid a handful of times since he had become a newsie, the first time being just after Jack had defected to the scabbers during the strike two years ago. David had been trying to help Al out in getting the boys to stop fighting outside the Lodge and listen to her. He had turned around just in time to see Grub shove Runner into the dirt. _She's gonna kill him,_ David remembered having thought, knowing how fond Al was of the younger boy, and only seconds later she had delivered a swift uppercut to Grub's jaw that landed him on his back. She had grabbed him by the collar and David remembered thinking he would never meet another girl quite like the one standing in front of him.

The rest of the encounters with Grub had proven just as obnoxious and irritating as the first. In David's opinion, the kid was one of the most likely candidates to have joined Quick Fists and his thugs. Therefore, David had decided to pay him a visit after noticing him slink by his selling spot only a few minutes earlier.

Thankfully, David had already sold most of his papers, but he stashed the few extra he had on the lowest platform of a fire escape in an alleyway nearby before running toward where he'd last spotted Grub.

Now they stood face to face. Grub was a few inches taller and at least fifteen pounds heavier, but David was confident in himself and his own fighting ability, if that was, in fact, what this was going to turn into.

"Reason why you're followin' me, Mouth?" Grub asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

David jerked his chin toward the kid's empty hands. "You already done sellin'?"

"That any o' your business?" the larger kid challenged.

David held his hands up in mock surrender. "Hey man, I'm not tryin' to start anything. Just had a couple o' questions for ya."

Grub narrowed his eyes at him. "Oh, do ya?"

"Yeah. I do," David answered just as forcefully. When the kid didn't immediately walk away, he continued. "I just wanna know if you've heard anything 'bout a guy named Quick Fists MacIntosh."

Grub's visage visibly darkened and he advanced on David. "What're you tryin' at, Mouth? You tryin'a cause trouble for me just 'cause I don't like ya goil?"

David calmly stood his ground, knowing that even a step back would appear to be a display of weakness at this point in the conversation. Grub knew something. That much was clear, and David was going to find out what.

"I'm not tryin' to start anything," David repeated. "I just wanna find out about this guy. He's dangerous and a threat to both Cowboy'n Cap. If you know anything, I'd appreciate the help." He wasn't sure if this tactic was going to work, but it was the only one he could think of that for the most part, avoided a straight-out fist fight. Even after being with newsies for two years, he had never acquired a taste for fighting the way the others seemed to have grown up with. For David, fighting was merely a means - a means of protecting the people he cared about and a means of getting information. He tried to avoid a fight when he could, whereas Jack generally seemed to egg them on.

"Look, you ain't gonna scare me into talkin', Jacobs. I don't gotta say a woid to you or that whore o' yours."

David felt anger bubble up in his chest and his jaw stiffened as he made an effort not to immediately deck Grub. Instead, he advanced menacingly, closing the distance between the two of them and shoving a finger in his chest. "Don't you dare talk about her that way," he growled. "An' you all but admitted you know somethin'. Now I can come back with four or five other newsies to back me up, or you can tell me what ya know right now."

Grub seemed surprised at the display of tenacity, but not quite convinced. He puffed out his chest, knocking David's hand away from him with a flick of his wrist. "Who says you'll be able to get them othah newsies?" he threatened. "I could beat your face in right now."

David scoffed. "You can try."

He braced himself for a fight, but none came. Instead, he watched as Grub's face scrunched up, as if he were thinking hard about what he was about to do here. David had no idea how it had worked out in his favor, but suddenly Grub was looking over his shoulder and turning back with a bit of a sigh.

"Look, I ain't hoid much, but this Quick Fists 'as been tryin'a recruit everyone this side o' Hattan. Woid is, he's got a real thing against Cowboy an' ya goil. Really hates 'em." Grub paused to look over his shoulder a second time, as if he were expecting MacIntosh to pop out from one of the shadows any second now. "He's been stickin' real close to the area along the Bronx an' West Manhattan. Least, that's where people been spottin' him. Stays far away from Brooklyn an' the Lodgin' House for the most part."

David nodded, taking in the information. "You know how many boys he's got?"

"Hard to say," Grub responded. "Enough to make the newsies whose homes or sellin' spots is close to 'im pretty damn noivous. At least fifteen that were already with 'im afore he started threatenin' people to join 'im."

He nodded again, but felt a trill of fear run through his chest. He was worried about his friends and his girl. This didn't bode well. "You hear anything 'bout his plan?"

"Just people guessin'. But he hates Cowboy'n Cap with a real passion. I wouldn't be surprised if 'e tries to kill one of 'em." Grub looked over his shoulder again and took a step back. "I gotta go. It ain't safe to be talkin' 'bout this an' I already told ya alls I know."

"Thanks, Grub," David answered. The kid nodded and disappeared down an alleyway.

David felt his heart grow heavy and nausea boil up in his stomach as Grub's last words echoed in his head. Quick Fists was mad enough to kill. It didn't come as a surprise to the eighteen-year-old newsboy, but David couldn't help wishing what he had suspected hadn't been confirmed. The idea of losing Jack was terrifying. The idea of losing Al was incomprehensible.

He picked up his pace to get back to the Lodge, eager to find his girl and be certain of her safety. He needed to feel her in his arms and know she was okay, that Quick Fists hadn't managed to get her yet. David swore to himself that he would do whatever it took to keep Quick Fists from hurting Al, even if it meant giving his own life to protect her. The time it took to get back to the Lodge felt longer than usual, though David knew that was mostly because of his worrying. His stitched up leg was aching by the time he made it, but he took the stairs two at a time regardless. He almost didn't see Racetrack lounging on the sofa, but the younger newsie called out to him when he was near the top.

"Whoa, Davy. Where's the fire?" the Italian questioned. David looked down and saw Racetrack sprawled out across the old sofa that backed up to the stairs with his hands behind his head, looking quite relaxed.

"Al back yet?"

"Naw, she's still out sellin'," Racetrack responded with a yawn.

With an irritated sigh, David descended the steps again and settled into the wooden stool Kloppman generally sat in when he was at the front desk. Come to think of it, David had been seeing less and less of Kloppman around lately. He knew the older man liked to go visit his daughter and grandkids on Staten Island more often as of late, so he figured that was where he must be. The man was getting on in years. David had to wonder what would become of the Lodge when he grew too old to run it.

"Headlines any good today?" Race asked, tilting his head toward David.

"They were alright," David shrugged. "You didn't sell today? You sick or somethin'?" He started to edge his chair a bit further backward. Things were too crazy around here right now for him to catch something and end up stuck in bed.

"No," the other boy laughed, swinging his feet around so he could sit up. "I went down to the tracks today - took a break from sellin'. Weather's gonna start gettin' too cold to go far soon. Might as well get my gamblin' in while I can." He grinned and David gave a fond roll of his eyes.

Just then, Al and Sarah came walkin' in the door and David felt his heart stop when he saw blood. He jumped to his feet, the chair behind him clattering against the hard wood floor as it fell. Racetrack quickly twisted around, keen on finding out what was causing David such alarm.

"We're fine," Al announced when she saw David's face. "Just got in a fight an' it ain't her blood. It's not a big deal."

"Quick Fists?" Racetrack asked.

"Delancey bruddahs."

"What?" David felt his brow furrow, surprised at the re-emergence of the two.

"I know," Al responded, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe it herself. "It was weird."

"I hoid they was woikin' at the dump," Racetrack said, smirk alighting on his lips.

"Ya know, I noticed a stench about 'em, but then, they always smelled bad." Al grinned even as she thought about it. "Anyway, Sarah broke Oscar's nose. Speakin' o' which, will one o' you get 'er somethin' to drink?"

Sarah was grinning, but David could see she was shaking. He moved over to his sister's side. "You okay?"

"Yeah," his sister responded. "Just surprised. I won my first fight, Davy."

David chuckled. "Good job. Just don't start makin' this a habit."

Sarah smiled softly. "I don't plan on it. Fighting may be all well and good for you'n the newsies, but I don't like blood and my hand hurts."

Racetrack handed her a bottle and she took a swig. David watched as her eyes widened and she coughed in surprise.

"That's not water," she grimaced.

"Oh, sorry 'bout that," Racetrack laughed sheepishly. Al snorted.

"You sure you're both alright?" David asked, his gaze sweeping over both girls, looking for any signs of further injury.

"We're fine," Al smiled with a fond roll of her eyes.

"Tell ya what," Racetrack said, sitting back down on the edge of the sofa. "You's two go get washed up an' we'll go celebrate by havin' lunch at Tibby's. Sarah, I'll buy you a drink in honah of ya foist fight."

Sarah grinned and half an hour later, the four of them were walking in the doors of Tibby's. Maggie, Skittery, and Kid Blink were already in a booth and waved them over. They were at the large round booth in the corner, so the four were able to slide in without things getting cramped.

"Looks like we've got a regular party ovah here," Racetrack pointed out from where he sat between Sarah and Skittery. "How was sellin' today?"

"Better'n usual with my girl around," Skittery said, his arm wrapped securely around Maggie's shoulders. Maggie grinned and sipped at her drink. She had lost her job at the factory where Sarah was now working when she mouthed off to her boss for treating her badly. With nowhere else to turn, she had just started joining Skittery in selling and had become the only other Manhattan newsgirl besides Al. She sold about half of what Skittery did, but she was steadily improving. She had to be a quick learner if she was going to be able to provide for herself. She lived with her mother near the docks and the two had to work hard just to keep themselves fed. Skittery helped where he could, though, and was proving invaluable to the family of two.

"It was alright," Blink responded. "Hey, how did-"

"Sarah, your hand," Maggie interrupted tilting her drink to indicate the offending appendage. "It's bleeding. You get into a fight?"

David looked past Al and saw that, sure enough, the knuckle above her middle finger had split. The rest of her hand seemed fine, just a tad bruised. Sarah took the napkin he passed toward her and dabbed at the wound.

"We had a little run-in with the Delancey bruddahs, when we were lookin' for Quick Fists," Al told them. "Toins out, Sarah's fightin' lessons are workin'."

The boys congratulated her before ordering their food. As promised, Racetrack paid for Sarah's drink, though she told him multiple times that it wasn't necessary.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Al said when the food was brought to the table and they were all about to dig in. "I gave Sarah a newsie name while we's were undercover. I think aftah the way she fought, it fits."

"What name is that?" Skittery asked.

"Trigger. It was off the top of my head when we was asked our names, but after seein' the way she jumped into that fight and broke Oscar's nose, I think she deserves it." David glanced toward his sister and saw the smile she was starting to hide. Having a newsie name would definitely make her feel like she was part of the group even more than before. Trigger suited her, surprisingly enough. She was the type that no one expected to lose her temper and when she did, it was like someone had just pulled the trigger of a loaded gun.

Racetrack squinted at Sarah and nodded. "I agree. Nice to meet ya, Trigger."

"You okay with it?" Al asked, turning to her friend.

Sarah nodded. "I like it."

"So, you find out anything on ya little undercover mission today or is that all that happened?" Blink questioned, barely looking up from the food with which he was stuffing his face.

"No," Al answered, pushing a fry through ketchup with an irritated look, then shrugged. "Maybe tomorrow'll be bettah."

"I don't know, Al," Maggie cut in, giving her a serious look. "You don't know if the Delancey bruddahs are workin' with Shifty again or not."

"Yeah," Skittery agreed with his girl. "Maybe you should wait a few days to go out as a boy again."

"I actually found something out today," David edged in to the conversation, remembering his earlier conversation with Grub. "I saw-"

"Heya boys, goils," Jack's voice cut him off and David looked up just as Al's brother sauntered across the room. To his left, he saw Sarah slide her hands under the table. Al frowned, but didn't comment.

Jack grabbed a chair, spun it around so the back was facing them, and straddled it. "Ya find anything' out today, Al? I already saw all the othah boys who went out for information today. I woulda been worried if it hadn't been for Tumbler sayin' he saw ya with David headin' this way."

"No, but David might've," she answered, giving David a nudge in the ribs. "What were ya saying?"

"I talk to Grub today," David continued where he'd left off. "Told me what he's been hearing about Quick Fists. It's not much, though. He's got at least fifteen boys, not counting anyone he's gotten to defect to 'im. He's stickin' to West Manhattan an' up near the Bronx. Grub says he's made it well-known how much he hates the two of you." He glanced between Al and Jack. "He's mad enough to kill."

The table went silent for a moment as everyone turned the new information over in their heads. "So I was too far east to find him," Al said quietly. "Gotta move further west next time." She made an irritated noise in the back of her throat as most of the table turned to look at her like she was crazy. "We already knew he hated us. This doesn't change anythin'."

"We didn't know he was willin' to kill before," Jack frowned at her.

Al raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, we did."

"At least wait a couple of days," Maggie reasoned. "Just in case the Delanceys spread the woid that you're in boys' clothes again."

"Yeah, I'll sell with you," David suggested, wrapping her smaller hand in his own. "Maybe we can find information without you gettin' yourself in trouble."

Al gave him a slightly irritated look, but nodded, accepting his terms.

"Delanceys?" Jack asked.

"Oh, you haven't heard yet?" Maggie asked, a grin blooming on her lips. David felt Al's left leg jerk toward Maggie and Skittery jumped and glared at her. Al started trying to mouth something to him as Maggie continued. "Your goil won her first fight today - 'gainst Oscar Delancey." Maggie beamed and looked at Sarah, who pushed out the breath she had been holding and looked at Jack, with her lips pressed together in a sign of displeasure.

"Why were you's fightin' the Delanceys?" Jack asked with a raised eyebrow. "Not that I ain't impressed."

David watched as his sister squared her shoulders before speaking. "I went out with Al today to look for Quick Fists. You wouldn't let me hep, so I asked her."

Jack's jaw clenched as his gazed turned on Al. Everyone else at the table was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"You know I didn't want 'er helpin'?" he asked stiffly.

"Yeah," Al answered, staring back defiantly. "An' I thought it was stupid. She wanted to help an' you told me to take someone with me."

"I wasn't talkin' 'bout _her_!" Jack yelled. David felt Al flinch beside him at the raised voice.

"Jack, you're gonna get us thrown outta here if ya keep yelling like that," Maggie scolded. "Besides, what's it matter if she wanted to help? What's so bad about that?"

Jack growled in the back of his throat as he glared at the blonde newsgirl. Skittery gave Jack a warning look and pulled her closer to himself. He looked like he was about to say something, but Sarah beat him to it.

"God, what is your problem, Jack?" she exploded, though she kept her voice significantly lower than Jack's had been seconds before. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself an' I can help if I want to."

"Not if I say you can't," Jack growled back, just as ferociously.

"Oh? And what are you gonna do about it?" she retorted, raising an eyebrow. "You gonna soak me if I don't listen to you? You gonna hit me like ya did Al?"

"Hey!" Al cut in, her head whipping around to face David's sister so quickly that some of her hair hit his face as she turned. "You leave that outta this," Al snarled. "That ain't what this is about."

Sarah looked a little subdued and nodded as Al leaned back. David could tell her whole body was rigid. She clenched her teeth and breathed slowly in and out through her nose in an attempt at calming her own temper.

"You know what? I'm leaving." Sarah motioned with her hand for Al and David to scoot out of the booth. They obeyed and she slid out, giving Jack a dirty look as she walked past him.

He threw up his hands, exasperated and called after her, "I'm just tryin'a keep you safe, Sarah! You're my goil."

"Yeah, well maybe you should start acting like that's true," she called over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

Everyone's eyes shifted to Jack.

He didn't move and Al looked like she was about to scream from frustration. "Aren't ya gonna go aftah her?" she prodded.

David silently agreed. If Al had stormed out after he'd had a fight with her like that, he would have been right on her heels to make sure she was okay. In fact, he was itching to do just that with his sister.

"No," her brother responded. "I'mma let 'er cool off." He started to turn back to the table.

"There are times you let someone cool off aftah a fight, but this ain't one o' those times. If you don't get off your lazy ass, she's gonna think ya just don't care." Al was getting red in the face and her nostrils were flaring with anger and more than a little irritation.

"I don't need you tellin' me how to do things 'round here," Jack shot back, his own face mirroring his sister's. Everyone in the restaurant was eyeing the three newsies as they stood there. Jack moved closer to his sister, still yelling. "You're just as much to blame! What the hell were ya thinkin' lettin' her come along with you when you knew I wasn't okay with it?"

"Do _not_ start this with me!" Al hissed. "I ain't in the mood to put up with you an' if ya don't get outta my face, I'll be headin' out that door fastah than Sarah did."

"Both of you, cool it!" David commanded, fed up with all of the yelling and fighting. "Sit down. NOW!"

Al and Jack both shot him looks that screamed "How dare you?", but he wasn't intimidated in the least. After a moment's stare down, they both sat reluctantly. He lowered his voice so he wasn't disruptive, like the two Kelly siblings had just been.

"I'm sick of everyone fighting. We're supposed to be family an' everyone's gettin' at each other's necks. Any of you ever think this is exactly what Quick Fists wants? To mess with us an' have us fightin' in the ranks?" He glowered at the Manhattan newsie leader. "Jack, you keep takin' out all your frustration on Sarah and Al an' I swear I'll soak ya before MacIntosh gets the chance to. Stop fightin' everyone an' get your head on straight or he'll always have the upper hand."

He turned around to leave when Al called out to him, more subdued than before. "Where are ya goin'?"

"Aftah Sarah. I'm gonna make sure she's alright. I'll see you at the Lodge in an hour or two."

**_Disclaimer: Grub is property of me, myself, and I._**


	15. Hurting

_**Author's Note: Today has just been lovely. I had a wonderful walk, finished one of my new favorite books (The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky), bought some new books. I'm in a good mood and, though this chapter is rather sad, excited to be uploading this chapter now.**_

_**Anyway, many thank yous to Ealasaid Una, woundedhearts, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, The Broadway newsie, and destaaa246 for your incredibly lovely reviews. I'm so glad y'all are enjoying this story as much as I am. :)**_

**Chapter 15- Hurting**

_I just wanna scream and lose control  
><em>_Throw my hands up and let it go  
><em>_Forget about everything and run away  
><em>_Yeah, I just wanna fall and lose myself  
><em>_Laughing so hard it hurts like hell  
><em>_Forget about everything and run away  
><em>_~Runaway: Avril Lavigne~_

"I need a vacation," Jack decided firmly as he sucked greedily at his third cigarette in the last hour. He stood on the roof of the Manhattan Lodging House, watching the sun fall among the buildings to the West. He wanted nothing more than to follow it. Ride into the sunset until he was out of the city, out of the state, and well on his way to Santa Fe.

Why did everything have to be so damn difficult? He was tired of all the stress and the arguments. He was tired of everyone he cared about getting hurt. He was tired of everyone being angry with him. Sarah was somewhere downstairs, probably with Al and David. She hadn't even spared him a glance when he arrived back an hour ago and he couldn't exactly say he was upset by the fact. He'd much rather stay up here by himself.

He knew he ought to go to her, but avoiding her seemed like a much better plan. If he stayed up here until she left, they wouldn't get into another fight today. Sure, they'd probably do it again tomorrow, but he'd rather face it with a full night's rest rather than after a long day.

Truth be told, he wasn't getting much sleep in the first place. How could he? Everyone he loved was coming under fire and everything he cared about was at risk. He kept having strange nightmares about Al getting killed and Sarah getting kidnapped or hurt. He'd even had a few about David dying and Al blaming him for it and never speaking to him again.

When had things become so complicated? When had every waking hour become a living hell? He was tired. So tired. A moment's respite was all he wanted.

As if Fate were waiting for that very thought to cross his mind just so it could spite him, he heard the creak of the door as it swung open behind him. He kept his eyes closed, facing away from whoever was behind him, wishing he could just shut out the entire world. Wishing he were anywhere but here.

"Are you ignoring me now?" Sarah questioned. She didn't sound as angry or defiant as she had earlier. She just sounded sad. Jack figured it was almost worse like that.

"No," Jack answered slowly, carefully. "Just thinkin'."

Quiet footsteps gave her position away as she slowly padded toward him. She stopped when she came up beside him. Jack could feel Sarah's eyes on him, studying him, and wondered what she was thinking.

"We need to talk," she told him. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She wrapped her shawl around herself more tightly. Her eyes had a reddish tinge around them, like she had been crying. It made his gut clench just thinking about it.

_Why am I always hurting everyone?_ he had to wonder. "Yeah, we do," he answered back.

He took another drag from his cigarette and waited for her to start talking. If they were still on good terms, Jack would have offered her a drag. He liked to tease her that way. She never accepted the offer; she would simply smile and roll her carmel-colored eyes at him.

Sarah sighed and threw her hands up in the air. "I don't know what to make of you, Jack," she said. He could hear the frustration in her voice become more and more prominent as she continued. "You call me your girl, but ya don't treat me like I am. You're short with me. You won't talk to me except on rare occasions like this one. This isn't the way relationships are supposed to work. We're supposed to be a team. Look at Al and David! They're practically inseparable. Sure, they fight, but they always fix things afterward. They don't just leave it." She wiped a stray tear away with the hem of her shawl, looking irritated that it had managed to escape.

She looked expectantly at Jack, clearly wanting to hear from him, but Jack didn't have anything to say.

"Please talk to me, Jack," she pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion. "Please."

"What do you want me to say?" he asked, throwing down his cigarette and not bothering to mask his own frustration. She didn't answer. She only looked at him with wide eyes. "What do ya want from me, Sarah? I'm doin' the best I can! . . . Would ya stop cryin', already?"

More tears were trailing down Sarah's face and she was biting her lip, clearly trying to keep herself from letting it continue. He knew it wasn't fair to yell at her for it, but it was only making him feel worse. She wiped at her face quickly with the backs of her hands.

"I can't do this!" he yelled, not knowing exactly what _this_ was, but knowing he couldn't handle whatever it was. "I can't do this."

"Don't you even want to try?" Sarah asked brokenly. "Jack, I love you. I know we haven't gotten along much lately, but I can't help it. I love you. I don't wanna lose you."

Jack turned and looked at her. His mouth felt dry and he was having trouble formulating words. Sarah had just told him she loved him. He felt like his head was spinning.

"I- I can't," Jack stuttered. He closed his eyes tight as he could and shook his head, willing himself to be strong. "It's too much."

When he opened them again, Sarah looked like she had been slapped.

"Sarah, I-"

"No, Jack. Save it." She looked fierce. Heartbroken, but fierce. "I should have known better. All you've done lately is yell at me or roll your eyes whenever I so much as open my mouth. I shoulda known that someone who treated me like that could nevah love me. Goodbye, Jack." And in seconds she was gone.

Sarah's face - streaked with tears and angry as hell - was burned into his vision. Even when his eyes were open, he could see her standing there judging him. She didn't understand. She probably never would.

She didn't understand that he did love her. He really did love her. He just couldn't deal with all of this right now. The timing wasn't right. And if he was honest with himself, he didn't know if the time would ever _be_ right. He winced as the pain in his chest threatened to bring him to his knees, but he didn't let it overcome him. Yeah, it hurt, but it was inevitable. He had known it was only a matter of time before he pushed her over the edge. It seemed to be the only thing he had grown to be good at in the last couple of years - hurting people.

God, he was good at hurting the people he cared about.

It was half an hour before he was able to gather himself enough to go back downstairs. He wondered how many of the Lodge boys already knew what had happened. He took a breath, making himself put the matter aside, before heading down to check on his boys before he turned in early.

It didn't take long. When he came down, Runner and Listener were trying to see who was brave enough to lean farthest over the banister. Kid Blink got to them before he could, pulling the two safely out of danger by yanking their collars backward. He berated them loudly and Jack gave a small smile over their heads at his old friend. Blink had always been something of a mother hen, yelling at the others when he thought they were being stupid. It usually meant they had scared him half out of his wits.

He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Blink's eye to make it the way it was. He'd only seen it without the patch once or twice. Blink was pretty good at making sure few caught sight of it. It only opened halfway and what little you could see of the iris was milky blue. A jagged angry scar ran right down the middle of his eyelid and ended just above where the eyepatch did. He did his best to keep it hidden because of its ugliness. It downright scared some people.

The first time Al had seen it, Jack remembered, was a year or two after he came to the Lodge and she had been around eleven or twelve at the time. She had cried and Blink had assumed it was because he scared the young girl. But Jack knew she had been crying for her friend. He remembered having to get Blink to go to her just to calm her down.

Kid Blink was more secretive about his past than even Jack had been before everyone found out because of Snyder. No one tried to press him, but the wonder remained. Jack doubted he had even told Mush, his best friend, what events had led to the blindness in that eye or who had inflicted that scar. Jack smelled abuse. He was usually right about that sort of thing, but he also figured he would never truly know.

Moving on, Jack found Jake and Racetrack discussing an article the two had read in today's papers. Jack recognized it. He had noticed it too. It was piece about how alcohol was affecting society negatively. Jack scoffed inwardly as he remembered it. It wasn't the alcohol that was screwing everyone over, it was the bastards who were abusing it. He chose to keep himself from joining the conversation. It dredged up too many memories of his father coming home drunk.

Instead, he headed back upstairs, eager to lose himself to his dreams. He needed sleep, badly. Hopefully tonight would bring him the respite he needed.

When he entered his apartment, he found Al in the kitchen, washing dishes and singing under her breath. She seemed glad to be able to use her right arm again and he noticed that her other bruises were healing up nicely as well. They ought to be only a bad memory in a week or two. For that he was immensely happy.

Al turned when he closed the door behind him, the sound having alerted her to his entrance.

"Davy and I are sellin' togethah tomorrow," she informed him. "I'm hopin' we might run into Grub again so's I can ask- Jack? What's wrong?" Her brow furrowed deeply as she eyed him from across the room.

Jack saw no reason to put off the inevitable. "Me'n Sarah ended things."

Al's jaw dropped and she all but threw the skillet she had been scrubbing at back into the soapy water. She didn't even bother to wipe her hands dry before she rushed over and wrapped him up in a hug. The embrace calmed him, surprisingly enough, and he felt his stiffened shoulders relax as he wrapped his arms around his sister. She pulled away after a few seconds and led him to the sofa.

"What 'append?" she questioned, now wiping her hands on the front of her skirt. At least she hadn't worn it selling that day or her hands would have just come away muddy.

"Everythin'," Jack answered with a sigh. "All we do is fight an' it's too much."

"But what about the last two years?" Al questioned. "I don't understand how this could happen."

"I don't eithah." Jack ran a hand through his hair. "We've just been growin' apart. Things just ain't right. I still love 'er, but . . ."

Al looked about ready to burst into tears and it made his chest constrict. Was this hurting her too? How would this affect her relationship with Sarah and especially with David? He felt the overwhelming exhaustion hit him and shook his head, warding off any further questions she might have.

"I'm gonna get some shut-eye."

Al nodded and kissed him on the cheek before going back to the sink. She looked more subdued and pale. She didn't resume singing, but washed the rest of the dishes as quietly as possible after turning off the light in the living room.

Jack settled onto the sofa and listened to the steady clinking of the dishes and splashing of water, all the while feeling numb. After the initial shock of ending things with Sarah, that was all he could feel now - numbness. Numbness and a bit of relief. What did that mean? What did that say about him.

The light in the kitchen went out a few minutes later and he listened as Al tiptoed to her bedroom, not wanting to disturb his slumber. Jack sighed, turning over in an attempt to get comfortable.

Numbness and relief weren't exactly what he was expecting when he realized things with Sarah were ending but at least he could focus on what was at hand now - keeping the people he cared about safe. Then, when he had accomplished that, he was going to get out of this rat town. He was going to get out of New York if it killed him. He had already long overstayed his welcome.

Jack fell asleep praying for a dreamless night, but woke at the tail end of a memory that only served to exacerbate his uneasiness.

_"You want anothah drag?" General asked, quirking an eyebrow at the seven-year-old girl on his left. Ali bobbed her head and accepted the cigarette, puffing at it like a professional. Jack hadn't quite acquired the taste for cigarettes yet, but he thought it looked pretty cool. General said it made him look tougher and in Brooklyn that was a prized quality when it came to newsboys. Ali had taken to smoking from the get-go and though General had only introduced them to smoking a week ago, she asked for a drag often enough for it to get annoying. _

_They were walking back to the Lodge now, after a long day's work. Jack was feeling pretty good at the time because he had managed to sell thirty papers today. It was his best yet. They had been a month on the job and were getting better at selling each day. General kept Ali next to him the whole time, but sent Jack off to do his own work. He claimed she was too young to do the work by herself and wouldn't sell much on her own, but Jack suspected he was really just trying to keep her safe in a borough that was notorious for being extremely rough. The older newsie told everyone that Ali was his little sister and she played along with it like a champ, sometimes adding in a cough or tears to add to the effect._

_By the time they had reached the Lodge, General had taken back the cigarette and he nearly choked on it when he caught sight of what was going on. Quick Fists was standing over a newsboy covered in blood. He swung the baseball bat in his hands and there was a thud before the newsboy on the ground screamed. A crowd gathered around the scene and everyone looked tense. _

_Al opened her mouth and started to protest the goings-on, but Jack grabbed her and slapped a hand over her mouth before she could. _

_General grabbed both of the younger kids by the back collars of their shirts and dragged them into the Lodging House before they could witness any more of the bloodshed. He ushered them into the bunk room and looked around for any eavesdroppers before crouching down and looking both of the two in the eye._

_"You see what happened out there? That kid was stupid. He crossed Quick Fists. But you's two is smart." He pursed his lips together before continuing. "That's why you don't cross 'im. You do an' you'll end up like Magic out there. Ya hear me? You disagree with 'im, you shut ya mouth an' deal with it. Got it?" _

_Both nodded solemnly and he ruffled their hair._

_"Good, I like the two o' you's. Good for business."_

_"General?" Jack asked as the older newsie made to leave._

_"Yeah?"_

_"What'd Magic do? To make Quick Fists so mad?"_

_General sighed and a heavy weight seemed to settle on his shoulders. "He disagreed with 'im . . . 'bought the way he's dealin' with Queens."_

Jack woke feeling panicked. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. God, how he wished that General had been there when Al had mouthed off to Quick Fists. Despite all his talk of the Kelly siblings being good for business, Jack had always known General cared about them. He would have jumped in and stopped it. He would have protected her.

At least Spot had shown up. If it hadn't been for Conlon, Jack might not have a sister to be worried about now.

**_A/N: Magic is property of moi. _**


	16. Looks Bad

_**Author's Note: So sorry the updates aren't coming as regularly as they were before! Life has been pretty crazy as of late. This is my last month living in Paris and I'm trying to enjoy as much time with my friends as I can before I go. Not to mention, homework has been crazy and I'm really toeing the line on getting put in academic probation because I keep finding out about assignments after they're due. I got on FF today and realized it's been 6 days since I last updated and felt horrible. Haha. I still haven't finished writing out the story, but hopefully I'll have plenty of time to do that tomorrow. *Whew* This is going to be an intense few weeks.  
>Anyway, thank y'all so much for your wonderful reviews. NewsiesRoni, woundedhearts, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, destaaa246, Ealasaid Una, The Broadway newsie, Rachel, and mysterygirl: you guys are so amazing and you don't even know how much it warms my heart that you care enough to review each time and tell me what you think. I love reading each and every review.<strong>_

**Chapter 16- Looks Bad**

_I know we can stay together  
><em>_Get through any weather  
><em>_No matter what tomorrow brings  
><em>_Oh girl, you're the only one inside of my world  
><em>_I love it when you whisper into my ear  
><em>_'Cause, baby, if you need me, I'll be right here  
><em>_~Right Here: HeyHiHello~_

As soon as she could hear her brother's snoring, Al knew she had to get out of that apartment. Even as she tiptoed toward the kitchen, where the window that led out to the fire escape was located, she could feel the air around her constricting. The darkness threatened to suffocate her and she could already feel her breath getting raspy as panic welled up in her chest.

She stepped out onto the fire escape and took a deep breath of the cold night air. She realized she was still in her night dress, a white flowy shift with long sleeves and lilac flowers embroidered around the collar, but she didn't dare go back into the the apartment to change. She shivered in the cold New York City night. She would definitely need jacket, though.

Al climbed all the way down the fire escape and hit the bottom a few seconds later. _Well, at least I remembered my boots,_ she thought, irritated with herself for having to go back in for a jacket. She made her way around to the front of the Lodge. The light was still on and she cursed, having forgotten it was still early in the night. She had planned on nabbing one of the boys' jackets, but things would be substantially harder if they were still awake when she tried.

She peeked in the front window and saw a couple of the boys horsing around. Thankfully, only one was even looking in her general direction. She waved her arm to get his attention, then motioned for him to come outside.

Listener obediently poked his head out the front door.

"Whatcha doin' out there, Al?" he asked inquisitively.

"It's a secret," she told the twelve year-old, knowing he wouldn't rat her out and wouldn't press her either. "Do me a favah, huh?"

"Sure."

"Can you get me one o' the oldah boys' jackets for me without them noticin'?" she asked.

"Sure thing." He closed the door behind him and, through the window, she saw him dash up the stairs.

By the time he came back, Al was shivering so badly that her whole body was shaking. It looked like winter was coming to New York early this year. She took the jacket Listener shoved toward her with relish, quickly wrapping it around herself and thanking Listener before she headed out into the night. The scent of cigar smoke and newspaper ink told her the jacket belonged to Racetrack. She grinned. That meant it probably had some cigarettes in it. She dug through the pockets and found three, as well as a couple of matches. Those were going to come in handy, she knew.

Al hurried through the streets, eager to reach the Jacobs' house as soon as possible. She needed to see David. She wasn't entirely sure why. All she knew is that Jack and Sarah had ended things. They had been perfect for each other. Sarah was exactly what Jack needed and vice versa, but now that it was all over. What was stopping that from happening to her and David? Would their next fight be their last? Fear seized her heart. The idea made bile rise up in her throat. She needed to see David and she needed to see him now.

Turning right on Abrams, she headed past the rowdy bar that they always passed to get to the Jacobs'. Al could really go for a beer right about now, but they wouldn't serve her even if she had the money. Besides she was in her night dress and and oversized jacket. It wasn't exactly the proper attire for a bar. She heard a couple of whistles from some men who had already had too much to drink, but she didn't stop or slow. Paying attention to them would only encourage their behavior.

Less than five minutes later, she was scaling the fire escape. As she walked, she prayed that Sarah wouldn't be awake. Perhaps she had turned in early just like Jack. It was pretty close to Les' bedtime and David generally tried to go to bed at the same time, so hopefully she could catch him without getting herself caught by the rest of the family.

She reached the level his apartment was on and looked in the window. Sure enough, all the lights were off and each of the three Jacobs children were soundly in bed. Al bit her lower lip and gripped the window's ledge, pulling her feet onto the railing beneath their bedroom window so that she could rest her elbows on the windowsill.

She tapped the glass softly. David wasn't a light sleeper, but he always said that it took him a little while to fall asleep at night. His mind took awhile to calm down. She didn't doubt it. You could practically see the cogs churning in his head all day long. She wondered if he ever got tired of over-analyzing everything in his life.

Sure enough, after only a few seconds, David's head popped up and turned toward the window. He held up a single finger and she smiled at his sleepily confused face. She almost felt bad for coming to him when he was nearly asleep, but it couldn't be helped now.

He climbed over Les and pulled the window up, then leaned down closer to her face. "What are you-"

He was cut off as Al instinctively pulled him closer by the front collar of his shirt and pushed her lips against his. He almost pulled away in surprise, but didn't, enthusiastically participating as Al deepened the kiss. He moved to put his right hand on the nape of her neck and kissed her back just as passionately as she kissed him. When they finally pulled away, they were out of breath.

Al felt the grin that spread over her face, echoing that of David's.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Not that I'm not enjoying this."

She laughed softly as he winked at her. "I needed to talk to you. You know what happened with Sarah and Jack?"

David frowned. "Yeah. Sarah cried herself to sleep." He sighed when she didn't respond. "I"ll be right out."

Al stepped down from the railing she had been on as David closed the window. She felt her heart seize in her chest as she nearly tumbled down the stairway after a misjudged step.

Seconds later, David was crawling out the window from the hallway and onto the landing it led to. He was in his pajamas and his jacket, barefoot, and sporting his fuzzy bedhead. "Wanna go to the roof?"

She nodded and followed his lead.

When they reached it, she move to the edge that faced the Lodge and looked out toward Manhattan. Al felt David wrap his arms around her middle and she leaned back into him, tucking her head in so that her forehead pressed against his neck. She felt the beat of his pulse against her skin and the rhythm helped to soothe her anxious thoughts.

"What's wrong, Ali?" he asked after a few moments of silence. She could see his adam's apple bobbing as he spoke.

Her breathing hitched and, even though she tried to keep herself from crying, she couldn't help it. Her eyes filled to the brim with tears. They spilled down her cheeks and along the contours of her face.

"Al?"

When she still didn't answer, she felt him turn her body in his arms so that he could hold her properly. She wrapped her arm around his neck and looked up into his concerned brown eyes. "They were perfect for each othah," she choked. "Perfect."

"Sometimes things change," David said, his arms wrapped strongly around her back. "Relationships end. It's part of life."

Al bit down on her lower lip, willing herself to calm down, but it wasn't working as well as it normally did. The panic was welling up in her chest again and she was powerless to stop it. "But why?" she questioned.

"I don't know, Al. I'm not Jack or Sarah. I just don't know," he answered. She could tell by the look in his eye that she was scaring him, but he was scaring her too. How could he say that things like that just happened?

"But I love you, dammit!" she cried out. She tried to push herself away, but his arms didn't budge. "I love you!"

"And I love you too," he answered, his brow furrowing deeply as he looked at her. She turned her head away, but saw the telltale signs of realization sweeping over his features. "Al? Alison? Alison, look at me."

She reluctantly turned her head back toward him, wishing he would let her escape the circle of his arms so she could at least collect herself before she continued this conversation.

"What is this really about?" he asked softly.

Al squeezed her eyes together, feeling the motion of a few more tears falling from between her lashes. She buried her face in his chest, not wanting him to see her like this anymore. She didn't want him to see her weakness. She sniffed as she answered in a small voice, "I need you, David. I can't live without you."

David's arms wrapped even more securely around her as she cried into his shirt, her body shaking with sobs. His silence scared her, but she was more afraid of what she would hear when he opened his mouth again. She balled her fists in his shirt as she let out her tears and soon felt David rubbing circles on her back. She didn't know how long she stayed that way, but when she had calmed down enough to compose herself she pulled away. Al wiped her nose with the back of her hand and looked up at David almost sheepishly. She saw the concerned look in his eyes and tried to look away, but his hands caught either side of her face. She bit her lower lip again and reluctantly looked him in the eyes.

"You'll never have to live without me, Alison Kelly," he told her firmly, though the left side of his lips curled slightly upward in an affectionate smile. "Because I will never let you go. I'm not Jack an' you're not Sarah, so don't you worry. I'm right here an' you're stuck with me."

Al felt so relieved that she couldn't help but laugh as the feeling bubbled up inside her. David's smile blossomed into a full-blown grin and he leaned down to capture her lips in his own. This kiss was different than the last, more tender and joyful than desperate and surprised. She loved every second of it. When he finally pulled away, she was echoing his grin.

"Was that supposed to pass as a proposal?" she joked breathlessly.

"No," David chuckled. "I don't even have a ring yet." Al felt like her face would be stuck in a permanent smile.

He kissed her again before they sat, leaning their backs against the containing wall of the roof and looking up at the stars. She snuggled closer to him and his warmth. David wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer.

"I'm sorry." Al wiped her eyes against the fabric on the insides of her wrists.

She was surprised when she heard him sigh. "You don't have to be sorry, Alison. Everyone needs to cry sometimes. It doesn't make you weak and it doesn't make me love you any less." He kissed the top of her head, then pointed up at the sky. "Look, Orion's out tonight."

The two fell asleep in each other's arms.

Al awoke the next morning to the sound of Les giggling. Opening her eyes, she lifted her head off of David's chest and twisted just enough to catch the eleven year-old standing on ladder that led to the fire escape. She wiped the drool on the side of her face off her cheek with the sleeve of Race's jacket and glanced at David's pajama shirt, glad when she realized she hadn't gotten any on him.

The sky was just turning gray as the sun slowly rose in the east. David snored softly beside her.

"What're you lookin' at?" she asked, narrowing her eyes playfully at the younger boy.

"Why're you sleepin' on the roof?" he asked. David stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily.

"We were talkin' an' lost tracka time," Al answered. "Speakin' o' which, I gotta get home 'fore Jack wakes up and loses 'is marbles." She kissed David's cheek and moved his arm off of her before standing up.

"I'll walk you there." David yawned as he stood. "It'll only take me a second to brush my teeth an' get dressed."

"Fine, just hurry up." Al grinned.

He caught her lips in a quick kiss before heading down the ladder. Al could taste both her own and his morning breath, but she didn't really care. She grinned as his head disappeared down the side of the house. Les made a disgusted face.

"Gross," he commented. Al rolled her eyes and ruffled his hair before heading down the fire escape with the younger boy on her heels moments later.

"Why're you awake so early?"

"I'm not used to sleepin' by myself," he yawned.

"Well, try not to wake Sarah when you go back in, 'kay?"

He nodded and climbed back into the window seconds before David climbed out of it. He secured his brown newsie cap over his curly hair and grinned. "Lead the way."

They headed back toward the Lodge, taking back streets so she could avoid the early morning populace. She didn't need them silently judging her for walking about in a nightgown and a man's jacket. She hadn't realized how bad spending the night at David's looked until this point. They hadn't done anything wrong, but anyone who saw her would surely assume otherwise. Maybe she should have just borrowed some clothes from Sarah before she left.

When they approached the Lodging House, they had to pass in full view of the front rooms to get around back. The two newsies hurried across the street and toward the fire escape in the back as quickly as they could. Al had assumed the two had gotten away with it when she heard a thud behind and David muffle a yell. She spun around, fully ready to start a brawl with whoever was attacking them, only to find that Racetrack was the one pinning David against the brick wall of the Lodge.

"Race?" she hissed, voice barely above a whisper as she tried to pry his arms off of David's shoulders. "What the hell are you doin'?"

David didn't try to fight off the Italian, too busy being confused by the strange turn of events. Race glared at him, his face inches away from the David's freckled one. Al could practically see the steam coming out of Racetrack's ears.

"Where were you last night?" he growled at Al, his eyes briefly flickering towards her.

"David's," Al answered, suddenly understanding what was going on. "But-"

Racetrack pulled his right arm and Al grabbed at it, but not fast enough. His fist sunk into David's flesh and the eighteen-year-old doubled over at the unexpected hit.

"What the hell?" he wheezed, seconds later. He stood and shoved Racetrack backward. "What was that for?"

"Race, stop it! You've got it all wrong." Al moved between them, knowing neither boy would try swinging while she was between them. "Racetrack, calm down! Nothing happened last night," she whispered hurriedly. "I went to talk to him and we fell asleep on the roof. That's _all_!"

She heard David step forward behind her. "That's all that happened, Race. You know I'd never take advantage of Al like that." He sounded surprised that Race would even think such a thing. She glanced over her shoulder at him and saw the almost wounded expression on his face.

That seemed to drain the anger out of Racetrack and the newsboy took a step back. "You swear that's all that happened?"

"On my life," Al responded with a sigh. "God, Race. You're like a bear on rampage when you get pissed like that."

"Got that right," David responded, touching his stomach and wincing.

"You alright?" Al asked.

"M'fine."

Al leaned forward and kissed Racetrack on the cheek. "I 'preciate ya lookin' out for me, but if you evah hit David like that again, I'll give you a permanent shinah."

Racetrack laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry 'bout that, Davy. It just looked . . ."

"Bad," David responded with a chuckle. "I know. No hard feelings." He spat into his palm and held it out to Race, who smiled and did the same before they shook on it.

"Alright, I'm gonna go get dressed. Jack awake yet?" Al asked, wondering if anyone else was slinking around waiting to jump her man.

"Don't think so," Race responded. "Pretty sure I'm the only one."

"Good."


	17. A Bone to Pick

_**Author's Note: Like I mentioned before, it's been pretty crazy around here. I've only got about 12 days left in France (18 days in Europe) and I'm already missing all the friends I'm going to have to say goodbye to. :( So, like I said, if my posts are sporadic in the next two weeks or so, that's why. It's hard to find time to write as of late!  
>Anyway, a thousand thank you's belong to my faithful reviewers who mean the world to me: The Broadway newsie, Kraken, destaaa246, woundedhearts, and Ealasaid Una. :) <strong>_

**Chapter 17- A Bone to Pick**

_There's a pain in my chest that demands to be felt  
><em>_I'm not one to lose my ground or deny myself  
><em>_You're so busy being you  
><em>_That you can't see  
><em>_Just how rare and lovely you are  
><em>_When you're next to me  
><em>_~The Fault is in Our Stars: Meghan Tonjes~_

David rolled his neck around as he walked between Al and Kid Blink on their way to the Distribution Center. He had fallen asleep with his head at an odd angle against the bricks behind him and now he was paying for it with the crick in his neck. Al was surprisingly talkative this morning, seeing as she was normally as far from being a morning person as a girl could get. She was doing everything in her power to cheer Jack up as they walked, though. He didn't seem particularly sad, but he didn't seem like he was all there either. His mind had taken wing and flown away, leaving Jack staring blankly at his sister as she spoke with an uncharacteristic animation.

Kid Blink was listening to an equally animated Mush as he described in full detail the date he had gone on the night before. The difference between he and Al was only that Mush was always this way.

When he got in line at the Distribution Center, David found himself beside Skittery and decided to strike up a conversation while they waited for their turn to get their papers.

"Hey Skittery, where's Maggie?" he questioned, not seeing her blonde head of hair around.

"Probably at your house," he answered in a low tone, sneaking a glance at Cowboy at the front of the line. "I'm buyin' her papes and meetin' her over there. She wanted to go drop by an' see your sister after last night."

"Give 'er my thanks. Sarah'll need the company."

Skittery shook his head. "I just don't understand. Breakin' up with his girl after two years? It's a damn shame. Those two were made for each other. I woulda bet my life on it."

"Good thing ya didn't," David quipped.

They moved a few paces up in the line.

"I can't imagine that happenin' to Mags an' I," Skittery commented. He lifted his cap and wiped a hand through his hair. "I'm crazy about that girl."

"I know what you mean."

"You do, don't you?" Skittery gave a half-smile. "Ya know, I'm gonna ask 'er to marry me soon as things settle down. Already bought the ring, too."

David's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wow. That's- That's great!"

"Yeah? Well, keep it to yourself. I don't want 'er gettin' wind of it. She loves surprises," he told David sternly, but the scowl didn't last long. He grinned as he looked off into the middle distance, clearly thinking about the girl that had his heart. "I asked 'er mother for her hand two days ago. She cried."

David clapped his friend on the back as they reached Mr. Mayfield. "You're a lucky man. She's a great girl."

"So are you," Skittery responded in kind. "I know you won't be far behind me. Al's like a sister to me, but I'll be glad to see 'er married if it's to someone like you." He turned to Mr. Mayfield, "Two hundred."

David bought his papers after Skittery and joined Al at the gates. She looked beautiful as ever, her dark hair pinned up into a bun at the back of her head and her green eyes sparkling. Her right eye was still red near the corner of her eye lid, but it didn't detract from her beauty in the slightest. She wore a light green, long-sleeved blouse with a tan skirt, black boots, and a light blue shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her face lit up when she turned to him. The whole effect made him feel a little breathless.

He was a lucky man, indeed.

"Where do ya wanna sell today?" she asked. "Your usual spot or should we move a little furthah west, since that new shop opened up down the way an' there are sure to be more buyahs in that direction?"

It took a moment to shake himself out of his stupor before he raised an eyebrow at his girl. "Oh no you don't. I know what you're tryin' to do, getting closer to where Quick Fists might be. No, we're stayin' in the usual spot."

Al pouted for a moment before following his lead.

The day proved mostly uneventful. Papers sold slowly and they were only halfway finished when lunchtime rolled around. A hotdog stand nearby provided the necessary nourishment the two required and David found himself thinking back to the strike after Jack had been arrested when he'd practically had to force Al to eat. He hoped he would never see her in that state again. She had been so distraught that he had wanted to strangle Jack for being the cause of her woes.

"That man was crazier than a drunk Spot Conlon," Al commented as she feasted on her meal. "Thinkin' 'e could pay me with a kiss. Hah. Like that was gonna woik."

David laughed as she scoffed. He wasn't threatened or angry about the man because he'd been elderly and seemed to legitimately be a few cards short of a deck. He shook his head as he remembered the surprise and somewhat horrified look Al had given the man when he proposed the deal.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be defendin' my honah or somethin'?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"You do a pretty good job of defendin' yourself," he quipped. "You probably don't need my help."

"And what if I want it?" she teased, a grin playing at her lips.

"Then I'll be more than happy to come to your defense," David grinned. "As long as it doesn't happen while I'm eatin' this hotdog. I'm hungry."

Al laughed and punched him in the shoulder as she polished off her own lunch.

"C'mon, ya idiot. We'd best get back to sellin'."

It was another two hours before David felt Al's bony elbow sink into his side and winced. Without a word she headed off toward an alleyway across the street and it took him a moment to realize he had better follow or be left behind. When he caught up to her, she was pressed up against the wall. She put a finger to her lips and peeked around the corner before pulling back.

"Runner's with someone. Thought it was Grub at foist, but I don't think so anymore. Too skinny." She leaned around the corner and dashed in their direction. David watched her duck behind a dumpster and followed a few seconds later.

"Warn me 'fore you run," David chastised. It would be better if they both dashed at the same time. It would lessen chances of being discovered by those they were attempting to pursue. "Wait, I thought Runner wasn't allowed to sell this far out?"

Al nodded. "He isn't. He's supposed to stay ovah at his sellin' spot or at the Lodge, 'specially when he's by 'imself. That means he must be workin' on gettin' us a lead right now."

The two dashed another hundred yards before taking cover in another adjoining alley wall.

David raised an eyebrow at her. "You kiddin' me? That kid might as well be your little brother, he's so similar to you'n Jack. What makes you think he's gonna follow your rules?"

"You've seen how 'e looks up to Jack," Al answered with a shrug. "I'm telling' you, he's findin' information right now. I know that boy bettah than the back o' my own hand."

"Fine, let's get closer, then, so we can hear what's happening."

David and Al ended up trailing the two for the next twenty minutes or so. They nearly lost the two a few times, most of those being when they had to pass through a busy street or the like, but they made sure to stay close enough to overhear the conversation for the most part. Just as Al had suspected, the older boy was yapping away about Quick Fists and his grand plan to take over Manhattan and challenge Brooklyn when he was strong enough.

David filed away each tidbit of information he heard. A lot of it seemed to be speculation, but it was still worth being wary of it. He had to admit that he was surprised to hear one of Quick Fists' boys so eager to divulge information. Then again, it's not like he could breathe down every one of their necks, even if he wanted to.

It wasn't long before they reached an alleyway that led up to a back entrance of an old warehouse that looked abandoned. It made sense that Quick Fists would choose such a place for he and his boys to meet and possibly live. Runner seemed to get the same idea too, because his steps were getting slower as they drew nearer.

"C'mon, kid. Don't be noivous. Quick Fists is glad to get all the boys he can," the older boy he was walking with assured, putting a hand on Runner's back to push him forward. "An' once 'e beats Cowboy, you'll do bettah 'cause ya joined 'im now."

"I ain't so sure," Runner hedged, trying to sidestep the older kid's grip. "Why don't ya give me some time to think about it. I'll meet you at your sellin' spot tomorrow and let ya know."

"Naw, that ain't the way it woks, kid. You oughta know that."

David felt Al tense beside him and he shifted so he could come to Runner's defense immediately if he needed it. No doubt Al was doing the same. This time Runner spun around so that he pulled free of the older boy's grip. When the older kid tried to grab at his hand, he dodged it.

"Yeah, it is. I'm leavin'."

"Get back here, runt."

David flinched as the boy lunged for Runner and the younger boy sidestepped again before planting his fist in the older boy's stomach. With a growl, he turned on Runner and the younger boy was prepared to fight, but Al came running out from behind their hiding place at that point. Silent as the grave, she sprinted toward the older newsie and caught him entirely unaware. He clearly saw her out of the corner of her eye, but there wasn't much he could do besides his eyes growing wide before she plowed into him and tackled him to the ground.

David came up seconds behind her, having been caught off guard by her sudden motion. Al had him unconscious after only two or three punches, and stood up, wiping off the knees of her pants where they had acquired dust.

Runner looked at David and puffed out his chest. "I found Quick Fists," he grinned.

David ruffled his hair fondly. "Good job, Runner." He looked over at Al. "You okay?"

"Dandy," she smirked.

"We'd better hide him before someone comes along an' finds 'im like this," David suggested, tilting his head toward the unconscious boy lying between them.

"That mean we're gonna explore?" Runner asked, his grin widening.

A look passed between Al and David and the latter crouched a little so he was eye to eye with the younger newsie. "We need ya to do somethin' real important, 'kay? You know how to get back to the Lodge?"

Runner looked positively dejected and his head dropped to his chest. "Yeah."

"You did really good, but we need someone to tell Jack where Quick Fists an' his boys have been hidin'. We can't trust just anyone." David placed a hand on the blond kid's small shoulder. "Jack needs to know where this is right away. That way, when Al an' I go in, we know we've got back-up in case somethin' goes wrong. Plus, this is just the information Jack needs to help us win. He'll be really impressed that you found it too. Can we trust you do to that for us?"

Runner looked at him skeptically, as if turning over this information in his head. He was trying to determine whether or not he was being gypped. The kid was pretty clever, David had to admit. There wasn't much he did rashly.

Finally, Runner nodded and took off in the direction of the Lodge. Al smiled as she collected the arms of the boy she had knocked out and David grabbed at the legs. It only took a few seconds to get him hidden behind a stack of crates.

Al grinned as she sidled up beside David. He felt his breath catch in his throat for a moment as if he had forgotten to breath. Her green eyes sparkled as she smiled sweetly at him. They started making their way to the door side-by-side.

"That was pretty clevah of ya, tellin' him all that."

"Yeah, well that's why I'm called the Walkin' Mouth."

Al smirked and twisted so that she was standing in front of him. "That's not the only reason." She stood on her tiptoes and stole a quick kiss before spinning back around and sauntering toward the back door of the Lodge. God, he loved that girl.

He followed in her wake and the two were creeping through the back of the warehouse seconds later. David's heart jumped into his throat every time his foot landed on the floor below him. He tried not to think about what would happen if they were caught. He clenched and unclenched his fists, remembering what he and Al had gone through just a mere two weeks ago. They wouldn't hurt him or Al the way they had last time, he would make sure of it.

David found a set of stairs and motioned for Al to follow him as he tiptoed his way up them. He crouched as he ascended them, feeling the dust and cobwebs thread through his fingers and coat the palms of his hands. He breathed quietly through his mouth to keep himself from needing to sneeze.

The stairs lead to a couple of offices on the second floor and a walkway between them and the offices across the warehouse from them. As the two crawled out toward the middle of the walkway, David surveyed what was below. There really wasn't much. A few ratty mattresses were tucked against the walls and obsolete machinery. A large round table with more than a few scratches sat near the middle of the room with a deck of cards scattered across it. Blankets were thrown haphazardly about and David even caught a rat scurrying out of sight at the far end of the room.

Most of the boys were out selling, but a few were currently milling about the warehouse, either done with their selling early or still lingering after their lunch break. He recognized Shifty hovering near another newsboy a few inches shorter with short blonde hair and freckles visible even from this distance. The kid looked strong enough, but not exactly what he had been expecting when it came to Quick Fists. It was almost a relief to see that he was less formidable than David had seen him in his mind's eye.

The two were talking in low tones, looking like they were waiting for someone or something. Two other newsboys were chatting with them intermittently, but David could hardly hear what they were saying.

He leaned over to Al. "You recognize anyone beside Shifty an' Quick Fists?"

She shushed him, but leaned in to respond. "That ain't Quick Fists, hon. That's Keeps." She pointed toward the southwest corner of the warehouse where a door had just opened. "That's Quick Fists." A small shudder betrayed her emotions upon laying eyes on him.

David shifted his gaze to the dark head of hair his girl had indicated and felt his stomach drop. This guy was the type you avoided even in clear daylight. With dark hair and a tanned complexion, Irish blood wouldn't be anyone's first guess when it came down to it, but that was exactly what he was. He moved with an air of confidence and his build was solid and tall. There wasn't a hint of lankiness on him.

Quick Fists made his way over to the table and leaned across it eyeing his boys. He tilted his head in a silent command for them to sit. Once each of them had taken their seats, he too sat and leaned back, threading his fingers together and eyeing them as if they were his handiwork.

"How many more hits we got planned 'fore we finish this thing?" Shifty asked. "I'm tired o' havin' to lay low."

Keeps mumbled something at his friend that David thought looked like a warning.

"I got everythin' undah control," Quick Fists answered as he leaned forward. "Only a few more hits. They needa be good ones. Get Cowboy all riled up an' ready to start somethin' he can't finish while scarin' enough o' his newsies that they'll get smart an' switch their loyalties to me."

"What about that kid that follows Cap around alla time?" One of the boys David didn't recognize asked. "If ya ask me, Keeps 'n' Shifty shoulda fixed 'im good when we offered to let 'im join us last time."

David's jaw clenched and he grasped at Al's hand, half to reassure her and half to keep her from jumping up and trying to soak them for even suggesting such a thing.

"An' that loudmouth Italian, Racetrack. He's always wanderin' off by 'imself," Keeps pointed out, smiling grimly to himself while cracking his knuckles. "'Sides, I got a bone to pick with Race."

Al's hand tightened around his. He didn't look at her, though. Instead, he kept his eyes on Quick Fists, who was nodding slowly. "I like it. Put a couple o' days 'tween the hits an' by then we should have enough to start our war." He looked smug as he continued. "When it happens, I want Cowboy'n Cap brought straight to me. I wanna be the one to kill 'em myself."

"You really gonna kill 'em?" Shifty asked. David thought the kid looked like he didn't know whether to be impressed or terrified.

"I'm gonna make an example of 'em," he answered. "I've got big plans for Manhattan . . . an' Brooklyn."

David felt the wheels turning in his mind. They had to do something and quick. Jack had mentioned that they needed to get the drop on Quick Fists and now it was clear that they needed to head him off before he intimidated any more of the Manhattan newsboys and before he could hurt anyone else dear to Jack and Al.

David leaned over now to whisper in Al's ear. "We gotta do somethin'."

"I know," she hissed back. "But what? We don't want a newsie war eithah. Those things ain't pretty."

He racked his brain for a few seconds before he remembered something Jack had mentioned a while back. "What about an challenge? Jack vs. Quick Fists. If Jack wins, he'll have to leave Manhattan, right?"

She thought it over. "Hopefully. But there's no guarantee he'll leave. It'll undermine the intimidation he's been puttin' on the ones who defected, though."

"It may be the only choice we have."

Al looked at him seriously, clearly going over the information she had acquired in the last fifteen minutes. Finally, she nodded and responded, "Get ready to run."

Before he could question her command, she stood to her full height and leaned over the railing.

"'ey! Quick Fists! There a reason ya only pick on the little ones? Too scared to go against someone who could beat ya, ya cowardly bastard?" she yelled. David stood up beside her as each of the newsies around the table jumped to their feet in shock. Al waited until the clatter from the falling chairs stopped before she continued. "I got a challenge for ya. You against Cowboy for Manhattan. None o' this underhanded horse dung. You meet us at the boxin' ring at midnight tomorrow, 'less you're too scared." She quirked an eyebrow and her lips drew up in a smirk for good measure. David composed himself in a similarly cocky manner.

Quick Fists instantly turned red with fury.

"There's that Irish blood," David mocked, just loud enough for them to hear.

"GET THEM!" he roared. Even from this distance, David could see the insanity in his eyes.

Al grabbed his hand and the two of them bolted across the walkway in the opposite direction from which they had come. Shifty and one of the other kids were already halfway up the other way. The two bounded down the opposite set of stairs as quick as they could. Keeps grabbed at them when they hit the ground floor, but David was ready for him. A fist to his face had the boy stumbling backward and David feeling a bubbling sense of satisfaction for having landed his first hit on the newsboy who had once tried to take advantage of Al.

Speaking of Al, it was at this point that she grabbed his hand and yanked him into an empty and abandoned office, quickly shutting and locking the door behind them.

"We got seconds 'fore they get in here," Al warned hastily, her back doing what it could to barricade the door.

David nodded and went for an old wooden chair not far from him. He snatched it up on his way to the window and swiftly shattered it before motioning for Al to get over there. He set down the chair so it could give her a boost out the window and followed behind her, catching his stomach and arms on the broken glass, but not bothering to care that he did. A quick glance at his girl said she had suffered the same fate.

The two took off like a shot as they heard the door to the office bang inward. Their adrenaline worked in their favor and they lost the traitors by the time they had reached the Lodge.

When the two came rushing headlong in the door, both panting and sporting a bit of blood, they found themselves face-to-face with Jack.

"What the hell happened to you's two?"


	18. End This

_**Author's Note: Guys, I am so incredibly sorry that this took so long to upload. I'm currently sitting in my room in Texas! The plane ride here was the first time I've had time to write in DAYS. I already had most of this chapter done and finally got to finish it up on my way over. I hate that I kept y'all waiting so long, especially in the middle of the story at the intense part too! Please forgive me! :P**_

_**Anyway, your reviews were as lovely as always and I enjoyed them immensely. So thank you destaaa246, woundedhearts, lol, Ealasaid Una, and natalieblack2 for making my day that much brighter and spurring me on toward finding time to write.**_

**Chapter 18- End This**

_I'm standing up  
><em>_I'mma face my demons  
><em>_I'm manning up  
><em>_I'mma hold my ground  
><em>_I've had enough, now I'm so fed up  
><em>_Time to put my life back together right now  
><em>_~Not Afraid: Eminem~_

Jack stood beside the boxing ring with Racetrack, David, and Al gathered around him. Spot was due any minute, having decided the King of Brooklyn needed to be present at such a momentous occasion, and Quick Fists ought to be there in about half an hour. And Jack was sure he would be there. Quick Fists wouldn't dare back down from an outright challenge. If he did, he would be pegged as a coward for the rest of his time in Manhattan.

He had to wonder why MacIntosh was even making a claim for the throne right now. After all, he was probably in his early twenties by now. That meant he only had a few more years of selling papers at all. Unless he was planning on simply overseeing and benefitting off the boys who did the work for him. Jack would never let him take advantage of his newsies like that.

Al was beside herself with anxiety. He could see it written all over her face, though she didn't say much about it. When she and David had returned to the Lodge, she had nearly burst into tears as she questioned the wisdom of the challenge she had issued and berated herself for being so rash. Jack and David stood by her decision, however, reminding her that it would put an end to things once and for all and would keep Runner and Racetrack, among others, out of imminent danger. She had finally fallen silent, but he saw the way she glanced at him every few seconds as if she felt she had sentenced him to death. He knew it wasn't a matter of her doubting his ability to fight. Rather, she was concerned about having shoved her brother into a fight that could easily turn sour.

After she had calmed down, Jack made David swear not to tell Sarah about the fight that night. He reluctantly agreed, but only after Jack reminded him of the danger it would put Sarah in to be there. If she showed up, she would become just another target on which Quick Fists could take out his anger. If MacIntosh ordered a hit on her, Jack would never forgive himself.

The rest of the older boys were roaming about, looking but antsy and excited about the fight. The younger boys had been ordered to stay behind at the Lodge with Maggie keeping an eye on them. Skitterey had insisted she stay there instead of joining those who had gone to watch the fight and she didn't argue. She had been told to wake Kloppman if she needed any help, but Jack figured she could handle the boys on her own. She was pretty persuasive when she wanted to be.

"Hey, where's Snitch?" Dutchy called out to no one in particular. "I ain't seen 'im in a while."

Jack saw his sister wince and knew the answer before she opened her mouth. "He left two days ago. Said it was about time he went an' got his little sistah from 'is aunt an' uncle in Jersey. Aftah that, he's gonna try to find some woik in a small town where 'e'll 'ave time to take care o' her." The boys nodded and carried on with the conversations they had been involved in.

Seconds later, Spot made his appearance, striding forward with all the confidence he always exuded. He came by himself, knowing that bringing his boys would be looked upon as a show of defiance against Quick Fists. His presence there was enough to show that Brooklyn was with Jack, but that they didn't plan on interfering unless this turned out to be an all-out war.

"Heya, Spot. Nice night for a fight, huh?" Jack greeted him as they spit shook.

"Bettah make it a good one, Jacky-boy," Spot answered, characteristic smirk emerging. He acknowledged Race and David with a jerk of his chin and winked at Al. She reciprocated with a roll of her eyes. "I didn't come all the way out here from a one-two-punch fight."

"Naw, you came out here to see Jack beat down this jackass," Race shot back with a grin. Spot chuckled and Jack laughed, clapping his friend on the back.

"Oh, I'll make it worth ya while. I got a couple o' bones to pick with MacIntosh I'm more'n ready to settle. I'm sick of 'im messin' with me boys."

Jack saw David slide his arm around Al's waist as a silent reminder that Quick Fists wasn't only a threat to Jack's boys, but to his girls too - Al, Maggie, and Sarah were at risk for as long as Quick Fists was allowed around here. The same went for the sisters and girlfriends of any of the boys who refused to switch their loyalties. He tried not to think about the amount of pressure that put on him. Thankfully, his pre-fight adrenaline was keeping him quite clear-headed at the moment.

The four settled into a pregnant silence as they waited for Quick Fists and his boys to show up. Jack's mind wandered back to the first fight he ever had with Quick Fists.

_An eleven-year-old trudged along toward the Lodge at the slowest pace he could manage while still making any progress at all. The summer heat had been hammering down all day and he was in no big hurry to get back. It had been a long selling day and he wasn't too keen on going inside where the air would be stifling and even hotter. Al had gone selling with Sam, a new boy who had only shown up a week or two ago. She was showing him the ropes for selling in Brooklyn. He was a quick learner an Jack figured he would have his sister back selling with him again soon enough._

_He was just around the corner from the Lodge when Sam came running around the corner. He skidded to a stop in front of Jack, his eyes wide with horror. _

_"You alright, kid?" Jack asked, quirking an eyebrow at the nine-year-old. He was only a year younger than Al, but it showed. He still looked quite babyish. Then again, he was always hearing that girls matured faster than boys. Ali was starting to look more like a young woman than a little girl, so he guessed it was probably true._

_"It's Cap- she's hoit real bad!" _

_Jack felt his heart seize in his chest. "Where is she?" he demanded._

_"Ya bunk."_

_Jack was already sprinting for the Lodge by the time Sam had finished speaking. Most of the newsboys were out front, keen to keep themselves out of the stale air that stagnated in the lodging house. The group in front of the door instantly parted for him, each of them watching him solemnly as he passed. That meant each of them knew whatever it was that had happened to Ali and that scared him even worse._

_The lodging house had two bunk rooms, one on the top floor and one at the back of the bottom floor. Jack's bunk was on the bottom floor and it was only a few seconds before he made it. _

_Spot Conlon, Quick Fists' second-in-command even at the young age of twelve, stood just inside the door and jumped when Jack burst into the room. He pushed past Spot and made his way to the bunk not far from the door, but froze when he saw his younger sister. She lay on his bunk, shivering in the summer heat. Her entire body was bruised and bloody, her clothes ripped, and her left arm twisted at the elbow in a way it shouldn't have been. Both eyes were swollen and her lip split badly enough that he knew he would have to give her stitches later. She breathed in short gasps that told him something was wrong with her ribs._

_Jack choked back a sob at the sight of her. He dropped to his knees at the right side and gingerly grabbed at her hand. "Ali? Ali, can you hear me?" There was no response._

_Conlon had moved to the foot of the bed and Jack looked up at him, fire burning in his eyes. "Who did this to 'er?" he growled._

_"She talked back to MacIntosh, Cowboy," Spot answered with a shrug. "Nearly got 'erself killed." _

_Jack stood, feeling the anger overwhelm every inch of his body. Now that he looked at Spot properly, he too was sporting a black eye that reached all the way to his ear. "You help 'er out?" _

_"I stopped 'im when I saw what was happenin' if that's what you're askin'. He's outta his mind. 'e was 'ittin' 'er with one o' them planks from those crates outside. She lasted longer'n most woulda. Fought back, even. But we both know she ain't no match for 'im." Spot shook his head and spat to the side, looking like he felt sick. He grasped at the cane on his waistband and his knuckles turned white._

_"Where is 'e?" Jack growled, low in his throat._

_Spot dropped his voice to barely more than a whisper. "Don't do this, Jack. You know what I'm plannin'. Just wait a little longer an-"_

_He was cut off when Jack grabbed him by the collar. "Where. Is. He?"_

_Spot yanked himself out of Jack's grip and narrowed his eyes at him. "Went to the docks." _

_Jack went straight for the docks and saw red the moment he laid eyes on Brooklyn's leader. At seventeen, MacIntosh was more than a match for the eleven-year-old, but Jack was a lot of things when someone hurt his family - and a force to be reckoned with was one of those things. Jack wasn't exactly a shrimp, either. _

_He went at the older newsie with nothing more than his fists flying and a guttural roar that seemed to emanate from his inmost being._

_Afterward, Jack honestly didn't remember most of the fight. All he knew was that he left Quick Fists in pretty bad shape. Jack himself walked away with more than his fair share of bruises and a bit of a limp. Before he even made it back to his sister, he knew he had to get out of Brooklyn and fast. The moment Quick Fists was lucid, he would want to retaliate._

_So he went back to the bunk room, grabbed his sister and walked for what felt like the longest walk he had ever taken to make it across the Brooklyn Bridge in Manhattan. He had hoped he would find General, but didn't have a clue on where to look. Instead, he ran into Racetrack Higgins, only an hour into his time in Manhattan. The ten-year-old Italian had approached him, wide-eyed at the sight of the girl in his arms. When Jack explained what had happened, it was Racetrack who told him about the Lodge and found the clothes for her Jack to dress Ali in. It was he who found the scissors to cut her hair with, but it was Jack who decided they would call her Al instead of Ali. _

_They had her at the Lodge in an hour and Kloppman only glanced at the young "boy" in Jack's arms before calling a doctor._

Jack glanced at his sister and Racetrack, who were talking with their heads together behind him to the right and silently thanked his lucky stars for them both. Where would he be right now if it weren't for them?

It was at that moment that Quick Fists came sauntering around the corner. Shifty, Keeps, and twelve other newsboys were behind him, each doing their best to look as intimidating as possible.

Racetrack moved into the middle of the ring and called for quiet.

"Alright e'ryone. This is how it's gonna go down. Jack vs. Quick Fists an' no help from eithah side. First one to go down an' stay down loses. No weapons. No help. Each can 'ave two people ouside their cornah, but that's it. Everyone else's gotta back up." He went on to having the boys empty their pockets and doing the same for whoever was at the corners. Jack had chosen David and Racetrack, knowing Al would likely try to jump in the ring if she thought it was going badly. He didn't really know why they needed someone in their corners, because it wasn't likely there would be any breaks in the fight, but it did make him feel a bit better to know they were nearby. Perhaps that was reason enough in itself. Quick Fists had Keeps and another newsie Jack vaguely recognized, but couldn't put a name to on his side.

Jack stepped into the ring with his long johns serving as his only shirt, with his breeches and suspenders pulled over them. The cold air made him shiver, but he ignored it, knowing after the fight started his adrenaline would be all the warmth he needed.

Quick Fists stood opposite him looking fierce. Jack studied him, trying to determine his fighting style and weaknesses now before the fight began and he had time to process it. They were roughly the same height, Quick Fists may have an inch or two on him but it was close, but Quick Fists was definitely the more muscular of the two. Jack figured that likely meant he was slower, which would be a blessing, but he would have to make sure he didn't get himself pinned for more than a few seconds or he was out of the game. His dark eyes were colored with hatred, probably a result of his being shamed by an eleven-year-old Jack and his ten-year-old sister so many years ago. Apparently, MacIntosh was one to hold a grudge. Then again, they had known that for a long time.

Jack remembered well that Quick Fists had a streak of insanity that overshadowed everything he did. He couldn't help but wonder why that was. The guy was clever, but that crazy side was the part Jack felt he had to watch out for most.

Before he knew it Racetrack had whistled loudly and the fight was on. Quick Fists didn't play around or prolong anything. He immediately took the offensive, running at Jack, plowing toward him with his head down as if he were a bull. Jack realized he was preparing to tackle him and waited to sidestep until the last minute. He didn't have time to get in a hit to the side, like he had hoped he would, but instead used the few seconds he gained to move away and ready himself for the next attack.

MacIntosh seemed to temper himself this time, slowly moving closer as if he were waiting for Jack to make a move first.

_I'd better not disappoint him,_ he decided with a half-smile to himself as he feinted left. Quick Fists called his bluff, though, and caught Jack with a blow to the stomach while dodging the younger newsboy's fist heading toward his jaw by mere inches.

Jack stumbled backward feeling a bit stunned. He ducked under another punch from his opponent and danced away from him with a concentrated effort to keep himself from becoming disheartened. Jack wasn't the type to take a defensive position in his fights for more than a few seconds. He was almost always on the offensive. However, it was clear that he would have to fight almost exclusively from a defensive stance during this showdown, at least until he wore down MacIntosh enough to get in a hit edgewise.

The next few minutes went in a flurry of fists and dancing of feet. Both threw blows and both dodged and parried in response. Jack drew first blood, landing a clean hit to left side of Quick Fists' mouth. He couldn't tell if he had dislodged teeth or if the older newsboy had merely bit through a portion of his lower lip, but there was no mistaking the keen sense of satisfaction that welled up in his chest and seeing the Irish boy's blood drip from the tip of his chin. Quick Fists did not share his enthusiasm, it seemed. In fact, he seemed rather put out by this new development. Instead of spitting to the side, he spat the blood directly in Jack's face.

Jack hadn't expected sportsmanship from the grudge-bearing bulk of a man, but he hadn't expected him to be this discourteous either. A wave of disgust and revulsion made him recoil as he lifted an arm to wipe the blood and saliva off his already sweaty face. The fleeting thought that perhaps this was how David felt when he had first joined the newsies and had to learn to spit-shake crossed Jack's mind, but the idea didn't linger.

The next thing Jack knew, he was seeing stars. He had forgotten how much more painful a hit to an already bruised eye was than when the hit is creating the black eye in the first staggered back and blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision quickly as possible so as to anticipate the next attack. An uppercut connected with his chin and Jack barely managed to remain standing. For a split second he worried that his teeth had shattered from the sheer force of the blow and he would never consume solid food again.

Nausea boiled up in his stomach as he felt Quick Fists hand grasp the back of his neck. He tried to jerk away, but his reflexes were too slow. Next, his face was slammed into the wooden cylindrical post at the corner that held up the ropes circling the boxing ring. Jack had never felt such overwhelming pain in his life. He simultaneously heard the crack of his nose breaking, probably in more than one place, and the shrill, distinctly feminine scream of his sister not far from where he was.

He must have blacked out for a moment or two, because the next thing he knew he was backed up against the supporting beam his face had just been crushed against with Quick Fists hands wrapped around his neck, cutting off the air supply.

Jack's mind felt sluggish but also acquired a sort of hyper awareness that caused him to notice quite a few things at one.

The first was that his sister was in his field of vision, not more than ten feet from where he stood. Kid Blink had his arms wrapped around her flailing body, her arms pinned to her side and her feet flying. Her face was half-covered by her dark brown hair, yet her face was visibly red even in the poor lighting.

"Help me!" Blink was yelling, clearly talking to a somewhat flustered Spot Conlon. He was clearly trying to divide his attention between the fight and the screaming girl beside him.

"What the hell am I supposed to do? Grab 'er legs?" he yelled back.

"He's killin' him! You bastard! Let him go!" Al was spitting mad. "David! Racetrack! End this, damn you!"

Racetrack was ignoring her and yelling encouragement to Jack, but he couldn't hear his second-in-command over his sister. David looked sick as he tried to reassure his girl while keeping an eye on the fight. He was clearly just as concerned about Jack's well-being as Al and was assuring her that Race knew when to end the fight and she didn't want to start a newsie war if it could be avoided.

Al's language grew even more colorful as her panic mounted. "If he kills my bruddah, he'll get his fuckin' war! I'll rip the bastard's eyeballs out myself!"

The lack of oxygen started pressing against the barriers of his skull and Jack knew he needed to act now if he was going to have so much as a chance at getting out of this predicament and winning the battle. He wished now that he had told David to get Al out of the city, or at least out of Manhattan, until MacIntosh was long gone. He hoped the boy knew that. Even Brooklyn would be safe if Jack lost this battle.

It was then that he heard what Racetrack was shouting above all the rabble.

"His knee, dammit! Go for 'is right knee, Jack!"

Jack kicked out and sure enough, something made a snapping noise in his opponent's knee. Racetrack must have spotted him favoring it, because it shouldn't have given that easily if it hadn't already been hurt. Quick Fists did a sort of hop and skip backwards and bared his teeth, which were coated in blood and gave him the appearance of a madman. Jack sucked in a few sweet breaths of sweet air, trying not to gag as he swallowed some of his own blood in the process.

Jack made sure he didn't give Quick Fists time to recover, though it would have been helpful for himself as well. His lungs still only felt half-full, but his face had acquired a sort of numbness that was at least more pleasant than burning pain, and he needed to attack now if he wanted a chance at gaining the upper hand.

Jack pushed himself, keeping his mind on everything he was fighting for - Al, David, Racetrack, Skittery, Maggie, Sarah - he wouldn't let them down. He had to put an end to Quick Fists here and now. He let out a roar of his own, imagining he must look near insane in the state he was in, and went at his opponent with fists flying. MacIntosh didn't stand a chance. It was a quick fight after that. Quick Fists got in a good few hits, but not enough to take Jack down. It was a matter of minutes before Quick Fists was down for the count, knocked out cold and lying in a pool of his own blood. Jack fancied the older boy still looked better than he did, but it didn't matter, because now Racetrack was beside him holding up his arm and whooping loudly. Al was clinging to David and sobbing louder than Jack thought he had ever heard her cry before. David looked as if he were shaking in his own right.

Quick Fists boys scattered, leaving their leader where he lay, though Jack knew the more loyal would come back for him when the rest were gone and tend to his wounds. He hoped they would, for Quick Fist's sake. Jack wasn't about to help him out, but that didn't mean he couldn't hope someone else would.

Jack looked around and saw that his family, everyone he cared about, was now safe. He had protected them the way he hadn't been able to protect Al the last time Quick Fist's threatened her. It was only then, when he saw that they were all okay, that he let himself succumb to the pain.

Darkness closed in at the edges of his vision and the last thing he remembered was falling into Racetrack's arms, the boy shouting in shock as his leader collapsed.

_**Disclaimer: Sam is a product of my own imagination . . . and he's also rather adorable**_


	19. Can't Swim

_**Author's Note: Two chapters left!  
>A bajillion thank you's to the reviews of the last chapter, they really spurred me on to finishing this one in a timely manner (seeing as things are still pretty hectic around here). Alice, woundedhearts, J.E. Magic, natalieblack2, destaaa246, newsiesluva, Ealasaid Una, and mysterygirl: Y'all rock a whole hell of a lot. :) <strong>_

**Chapter 19- Can't Swim**

_One day, she will tell you that she's had enough  
><em>_He's comin' round again  
><em>_Do you feel like a man  
><em>_When you push her around?  
><em>_Do you feel better now  
><em>_As she falls to the ground?  
><em>_~Face Down: Red Jumpsuit Apparatus~_

Al used her hand to guide her brother's jaw so she could check the stitching on his left cheek. There was no sign of infection, only a bit of redness from irritation, but nothing more. She breathed a sigh of relief. Facial stitching always made her nervous. There was so much potential for infection, pulling of stitches, or nasty scars. As it was, he would definitely have a scar, but it wouldn't be terrible. Racetrack joked that it set off the slightly crooked angle of his nose now. Al had set it after the initial break, but it would still heal awkwardly because there were multiple breaks.

It had been a week since the fight and they hadn't seen hide nor hair of Quick Fists MacIntosh or any of his boys, with the exception of Keeps, who had earned a beating from Mush and Dutchy when they had caught him snooping around the Brooklyn Bridge. Jack figured the kid was trying to stick around, but he wouldn't try any longer. The two newsboys had done him in pretty well.

Skittery had proposed to Maggie two nights ago and the two were still positively glowing with excitement. Maggie couldn't wipe the smile off her face and Skittery constantly announced that he was the luckiest man alive because he was marrying her. They hadn't set a date yet, but they were hoping the wedding would be in early spring. Neither wished for a long engagement.

As the only other serious couple in the Lodge now, Al and David were getting plenty of comments and suggestions that he ought to be popping the question soon. Al generally responded with a roll of her eyes, David with a joke, and Jack with a threat, but the series of events definitely had her thinking things over.

"You're fine," Al told her brother. "Just keep washing' ya face and keeping your stitches clean an' ya oughta be fine."

"Thanks, Doc," he grinned.

Al rolled her eyes and left the bunk room. The boys were too rowdy in there and she was strongly considering a walk. It had been a while since it had been safe enough for her to go walking by herself and it wouldn't be long before it was too cold to go out for anything other than necessity. Besides, she had some time to kill before David came by. School was likely out already, but he had to stay afterward for some sort of graduating business. He had told her what that business was, but it had honestly gone in one ear and out the other. She was excited for him, but she had no idea what he was talking about.

Mush and Kid Blink were sitting by the front door, smoking and talking about something else that Al couldn't make heads or tails of. She was just shrugging on her coat as she walked when Mush called out after her, "Hey Al, where ya headed?"

"Just takin' a walk," she called over her shoulder. "Ain't gonna be nice out for long."

"You call this nice?" Kid Blink scoffed, rubbing his arms for effect. He wasn't one who enjoyed the cold much.

"Be careful," Mush called out to her.

She nodded and continued at her own pace, quickly leaving the Lodge and all of it's inhabitants behind as her mind dove into itself. Her thoughts turned back to marriage and everything that meant. The idea of marriage itself just seemed so foreign. It was something she never truly allowed herself to hope for, not before she knew David and definitely not afterward. She never allowed herself to hope for it so that she wouldn't be crushed when it didn't happen.

But things had changed plenty since David entered her life two years ago and Al knew she wasn't that same person she used to be anymore. Even as she considered it, she knew her answer would always be yes if he asked for her hand. She couldn't imagine her life without the middle child of the Jacobs family in it. David was more than she could ever hope for in a husband and the fact that he would even consider her for a wife was like something from a dream.

Alison Jacobs _did _have a nice ring to it. She smiled, thinking back to a time when Sarah had said basically the same thing and shook her head with a smile. Alison Jacobs.

Al turned the corner and let her thoughts drift toward Sarah as she did. The poor girl was heartbroken. It was odd, knowing her brother had been the one to do the breaking. Al was used to having someone to blame when someone she loved was hurting, therefore giving her someone on which she could take out her own anger over the situation. This was different, though. Jack may have caused the pain, but they were both hurting. Sarah steered clear of Jack now, though she did come by the Lodge once to check on the others. She only talked to him long enough to tell him that she was glad he was okay and that Quick Fists hadn't won. Her voice was cold, though. A broken heart could do that to a person.

A shiver of fear chilled her spine, but she remembered David's reassurance that it would never happen to them. He swore he would never leave her, and Al was certain she couldn't live without him. In fact, she often wondered how she had managed before he came along.

David loved her for who she was, for everything she was. She didn't know how he did it. She was aware that she likely had issues she had never dealt with. Her inability to open up had hurt him more than once, and would probably continue to do so in the future, but he showed no signs of straying. He still wanted her. Sure, she was aware of his own insufficiencies and shortcomings, but she knew he wasn't perfect. She didn't want someone who was perfect. She just wanted David.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she paid no attention to where he feet led her. She soon found herself approaching Central Park. It seemed that she always ended up here when she was thinking. Perhaps being around nature appealed to her. The trees were lovely this time of year. Their bright red and yellow leaves drifted this way and that, creating a noisy but comfortable bed in the grass.

Runner and the other younger boys had been getting their fill of jumping in the leaves the past couple of days. They whooped and hollered like they had just won the strike all over again when they played in it. Al took more enjoyment out of watching them than participating in it, though they sometimes coaxed her into taking a jump or two. Listener would use those big, dark eyes of his to plead silently with her until she gave it.

Runner seemed to be spending a good deal of time with Jack now. More than usual, that is. If Al was correct, she figured her brother had chosen the younger boy to succeed him as head of Manhattan when he grew older. Al thought it was a great choice and she liked the idea of training one of the younger newsboys much better than having an all-out power struggle when Jack finally left. Runner would make a great leader in a couple of years, if he was up to it.

Al was also happy that Jack had chosen such a young recruit because that likely guaranteed his presence in Manhattan for a few more years. She could see that trapped look in Jack's eyes again as of late, mixed with the wanderlust that she had always known resided there, and she worried about losing her brother. Al knew he wouldn't leave until he knew she was well taken care of, probably married, but still the idea of losing her brother terrified her. She knew he needed to chase his dream eventually and stop putting it off for her and everyone else, but she couldn't bear to even think of his leaving.

His leaving had even started to incorporate itself into her nightmares, which had been quite strong this entire week. They usually grew more intense after things like what had happened only one week ago. She had only woken up screaming twice, though. She was getting better at keeping herself from crying out in her sleep, so she was happy about that. Still, she was exhausted and was eager to get back to a sleeping pattern that didn't include her waking up once or twice every night.

Al heard a noise behind her and looked back, she had wandered off the main road and was now on one that sported about a handful of commuters, busily moving toward their destination without a care in the world except for where they were going. She spotted a shadow that looked unnatural in the alleyway behind her and rolled her eyes when she realized it was a newsboy. Jack had made one of them follow her.

Trying to swallow her irritation she spun on her heel and went straight for the boy half-hidden in the alley, prepared to lecture him about how she didn't need to be followed; she was quite capable of taking care of herself.

It wasn't until she was close enough to reach out and touch him that she realized this wasn't just any newsboy. She started to backpedal when she recognized him, but she was already too close. Quick Fists grabbed her by the arm and slammed her back against the brick wall he had just been leaning against. The bruising on his face was substantial, though nothing compared to the damage Jack was currently sporting. She hated that he had lost and still come away in better shape than her brother.

"What the-"

"Didn't expect ya to come right to me, Ali," Quick Fists voice was low and filled with barely controlled rage that sent trills of fear down her spine. "But you just made my job a lot easier."

"What do you want from me?" Al hissed back. "You aren't supposed to be in 'Hattan anymore." He had her arms pinned to her side against the wall and she could smell the tobacco on his breath. It reminded her of the time she first met him as well as the time he nearly took her life.

_"I wish Jack'd hurry up an' come back," Ali yawned, lounging with her legs hanging over the edge of the dock. "I don't like to swim without 'im. 'e only just taught me 'ow and this water's real deep." Sam nodded as she spoke, looking at the water just as wistfully as she did. "I'll get 'im to teach you too. Jack's the best swimmin' teacher you'll evah get."_

_"Who teached him?"_

_"Aw, he teached 'imself. He's real smart." _

_She pulled a cigarette from her pocket and lit it before offering to share with Sam. He took one drag and nearly coughed up his lungs, resulting in a hearty round of laughter from Ali. He pulled a face and handed the cigarette back to her. _

_"S'alright, everybody coughs at first."_

_It was at that point that Quick Fists interrupted them, grabbing Sam by the back of the collar and pulling him onto his feet. "New kid, pay up," he ordered._

_"What for?" Sam questioned as Ali stood to her feet._

_"What's it mattah what for? You went sellin' today, hand ovah the dough!" _

_Al tensed as Sam furrowed his eyebrows at the leader of the newsboys. Quick Fists had moments like these pretty often. He'd spend all his money on cigarettes or booze, then steal from the younger newsies to make up the difference so he could pay for his stay at the Lodge or buy papers the next morning. That generally meant that kid slept outside that night, or didn't eat for the next few meals. Sometimes one of the older newsies would feel generous, though, and give the kid a couple of cents to tide them over until they made more. Ali just wished Sam would hurry up and fork over the coins he had earned today before he ended up hurt. She'd seen kids get a black eye or bloody nose from Quick Fists for less._

_"Sam," she hissed, voice low in warning._

_"I already paid for the Lodge tonight. I only got a nickel."_

_"Well hand it ovah." _

_"No." _

_Ali's heart dropped into her stomach as something like shock and outrage grew on Quick Fist's face. With a growl of anger, he forced the younger newsie over the edge of the walkaway and a splash sounded as he hit the water hard. Not only was that a pretty big drop compared to where most of the boys usually entered the water, but she knew Sam couldn't swim. Ali rushed to the edge of the dock and screamed down at him._

_He came up sputtering and struggling in the water and Ali rounded on Quick Fists, her eyes flaring. Her temper had already shown to be quick, even at the tender age of ten, and seeing her friend in trouble didn't help any._

_"What do you think you're doing?" she shrieked at the seventeen-year-old in front of her. "He can't swim! Someone help him!" She directed the last bit at the other boys in the near vicinity. To her immense relief, she saw Magic dive into the water out of the corner of her eye. Seconds later, the screaming and sputtering from the water had silenced. _

_Sam was safe now, but Ali knew she wasn't. _

_Quick Fists closed in on her and the collar of her shirt was balled up in his fist seconds later. "What did you say to me?" he growled._

_"You could have killed him," she answered back firmly, not about to back down now. "He can't swim."_

_"That's not my problem." _

_"Then you shouldn't be leadah." The moment the words left her lips, Ali knew they were her death sentence._

_With a roar of anger, Quick Fists threw her across the dock. She hit the ground and rolled, feeling slivers work themselves into her skin as she slid across the dock's surface. They were the least of her concern, though, and the moment she had stopped rolling, she jumped to her feet in preparation for the onslaught she knew was coming for her. _

_Quick Fists was already almost to her and all the newsies in the near vicinity had their eyes riveted on the two of them. Ali had just enough time to wish her brother were with her before she was consumed with the effort of trying to dodge of block the blows coming at her in rapid succession. Quick Fists hadn't gotten his name from being a bad fighter and pain was radiating through her entire body in mere seconds. She had been taught how to fight since becoming a newsie, but she had been a slow learner and was sorely outmatched. _

_Finally, all she could think to do to defend herself was wrap her arms around her middle and tuck in her head. Each blow pushed her back a few steps until she finally fell onto her back, feeling like all the air had been sucked out of her. MacIntosh straddled her and continued to pummel her. The onlookers were entirely silent. The only thing she could hear was her flesh giving way under MacIntosh's fists and the gentle lap of waves against the pillars that held the docks aloft. She could already feel her face swelling in reaction to the hits. _

_Suddenly, he wasn't on top of her anymore. Ali opened her eyes and saw that he had moved away. Perhaps he had finished hurting her. She rolled over to her stomach, got on her knees, and promptly vomited on the wood flooring. The rest of her body felt oddly numb as she emptied the contents of her stomach. She wanted to cry, but couldn't find the strength. If she could just get inside, where it wasn't so cold. Why was it so cold? Hadn't she been burning up a few minutes ago?_

_A shadow passed over her and she looked up to find Quick Fists standing above her with a plank that looked like he had ripped it off of a crate. Ali found herself hoping there weren't any nails sticking out of it. _

_"You don't think I'm fit to be leadah? I don't think you're fit to be a newsie. So I's gonna get rid o' ya."_

_Ali knew she should be scared, but she just felt so tired. She gritted her teeth and tried to stand to her feet, but couldn't manage it. Quick Fists laughed and swung the plank. Unable to dodge it, she lifted her arm to shield herself and the plank connected with her elbow with a force she hadn't quite anticipated. Pain exploded behind her eyes as a loud cracking noise ripped through the air followed by the sound of her scream. She fell onto her back and looked up at the monster smirking above her. Something was wrong with her arm. She was having trouble moving her fingers and it was scaring her. Darkness was closing in at the edges of her vision and she was afraid that this was going to be the last thing she ever saw. She wished for her brother again._

_Quick Fists swung again and it was at this point that someone finally stepped in to save her. The person was suddenly standing over her prone body and another loud crack rang out as that person stopped the motion of the plank with his cane. It was then that Ali realized Spot Conlon was in the process of saving her._

_"Enough, Quick Fists!" she heard him yell. "She's just a little goil!"_

_Ali blinked rapidly, scared that the darkness trying to overwhelm her was death itself. She didn't want to die now. If she could just keep her eyes open, she would make it. Spot had come, hadn't he? He had saved her. She couldn't die now!_

_"Back off, kid." Quick Fists responded. He swung the plank at Spot this time and it connected with his face, but Spot only appeared momentarily disoriented before he went back to the newsie leader, this time with his hands in the air._

_"You don't wanna do this, Quick Fists. You'll get put in the Refuge or killed. She's loined her lesson. It's a bad idea to kill 'er."_

_The newsboys' leader looked irritated, but convinced as he lowered his swinging arm. "Yeah, I guess you're right."_

"What do I want from you?" Quick Fists repeated her question, eyes glinting maliciously. "I wanna finish the job I started seven years ago."

Al momentarily considered kneeing him in the groin, but he was too close for her to try. So instead, she braced herself and slammed her forehead into his nose with as much force as she could muster. The force wasn't enough to break his nose due to his proximity, but it managed to cause enough pain to make him let go of her and that was all she needed.

She sidestepped and shuffled a few steps from him, eager to put distance between them. "I think you'll realize I ain't the same little goil you faced seven years ago," she growled back. "To be honest, I'm a lil' surprised to see ya here. Pickin' on people who can defend themselves isn't really ya style." After he had hurt her so bad, all those years ago, she had done her best to learn everything she could about fighting. Where she had been a slow learner before, she started to pick things up after the second and third try. Racetrack often said that the beating must have shown her the true necessity of learning to fight when one lived on the streets. Al agreed wholeheartedly.

Quick Fists was still holding his nose, but he was glaring daggers. "You're gonna pay for that, Kelly, an' for everythin' else. An' this time, you ain't gonna walk away at the end of it." He drew his hand away and went for his back pocket. The moment he did, Al's heart dropped into her stomach. It stopped altogether when she saw what he pulled out of it.

He flicked open his switchblade and smiled darkly. "I'm gonna carve up that pretty little face o' yours so when Cowboy finally finds ya rottin' in the guttah, he'll hardly recognize you."

Al didn't even have time to process his remark before the knife was coming straight at her face. She ducked beneath it and hit his arm away before landing a hit in his gut. She had to figure out a way to disarm him and get help. She wasn't sure she could take him in a fair fight, much less one where the cards were rigged against her. Right now, he stood between herself and the only exit.

She jumped to the side as another lunge nearly planted his knife in her belly, but she didn't manage to avoid the uppercut that came shortly afterward with his free hand. She had been paying so much attention to the knife that she hadn't noticed his other hand coming up to greet her. Her teeth clacked together and snapped her head backward. Al struggled to keep her balance for a second. When she regained it, she kicked out at his stomach.

The knife caught the skin just below her kneecap as he fell backward, but she didn't think it would be deep enough for stitches from the feel of it. Right now, she had bigger problems. His knife went skidding away and Al took that as her chance to make a run for it. She didn't even try to go for the weapon. She knew she couldn't win this one on her own and there was no shame in running when the fight wasn't fair to begin with.

But Quick Fists must have seen the look in her eyes because he was ready for her, even from where he was trying to get to his feet. He lunged for her legs as she passed him, wrapping his meaty arms around her thighs and dropping her so quickly that she barely had enough time to throw her hands out in front of her before she hit the concrete. Her scream bounced around the alley walls as if taunting her attempt to escape.

Quick Fists grabbed the waistband of her skirt in an attempt to pull himself closer to her torso and she kicked back at him. His body was too heavy for her to do any damage that way, so when he pulled himself further onto her legs, she opted to elbow him in the face instead. She felt her elbow connect with the side of his head and nearly smiled at the sickening sound of flesh smacking into flesh. The weight shifted halfway off of her lower body; just enough for her to wriggle her way out from under him. She rolled over to give herself a fighting chance and went for his face. She swung her left arm and he howled as her fist sunk into his cheek, where a bruise had already developed.

Unfortunately for her, this pain also caused MacIntosh's temper to flare. He swung back and she tried to dodge, but it didn't work. There just wasn't enough room when one was still nearly horizontal. Next, he lunged for her, slamming his whole body into her. Her back hit the ground seconds before her head and bright white lights erupted in her vision as Quick Fists straddled her. He caught her by the throat and glanced around for the knife.

Al followed his gaze and saw it was well out-of-reach.

"Oh well, looks like I get to do this the old-fashioned way," he told her. He pushed down on her windpipe and Al choked audibly, her lungs desperately trying to grasp at the air. She did her best to try and kick him in the back of the head and managed to draw blood on his face as she clawed at it with her nails, but neither were enough to make any difference. The more she struggled, the harder he pushed down on her throat.

Al's mouth worked like a fish as she did her best to suck in even a tidbit of oxygen, but it wasn't enough. Even as the blood she'd drawn dripped from Quick Fists' open cuts on his face, his grinned widened. Darkness closed in and Al realized that the last thing she would ever see was his terrible grin.

Her last coherent thought, as she descended into the murky grasp of unconsciousness, was that she wished she could see David's smile once more instead.


	20. Lost Her

_**Author's Note: One chapter left! Yay!  
>Woundedhearts, Ealasaid Una, destaaa246, The Broadway newsie, natalieblack2, NOTWOUNDEDHEARTS, and Rachel: Thank you for you fantastic reviews. :) They really helped spur me on to writing this chapter faster and getting it up in a timely manner. :P <strong>_

**Chapter 20- Lost You**

_Love hurts  
><em>_But sometime it's a good hurt  
><em>_And it feels like I'm alive  
><em>_Love sings  
><em>_When it transcends the bad things  
><em>_Have a heart and try me  
><em>_'Cause without love I can't survive  
><em>_~Love Hurts: Incubus~_

"You're dismissed."

David resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he grabbed his bag and booked it out of the schoolroom. He was sick and tired of sitting and saw no real reason for the school to have them stay behind for a "graduation meeting" when graduation wasn't until May. Perhaps it was the school's way of reminding them to keep their grades up and their noses out of trouble in the home stretch, but David considered it a monumental waste of time. Two weeks from now and he wouldn't remember a single word that had been uttered in that classroom. All he would remember was that it had happened and he had been bored.

He looked to the gate and saw that no one had come to walk him back to the Lodge. He hadn't really expected them to. It was later than usual and there wasn't really a need for him to be escorted there now. Still, he missed the company as he made his way there. It was the one thing he had truly enjoyed about the restrictions that came with the threat Quick Fists had posed.

He felt lighter, though, as he walked. The weight of worry had seemed to pull him down these past couple of weeks and it was only now that Jack was recovering from his fight with the MacIntosh kid that he could feel the effects of its lightening. It made him look forward to more of it in the weeks ahead. Christmas would be here soon enough and then graduation would come in May. After that, he had a job ready and a girl he was hoping to make his wife around that time. In fact, he was considering going to Jack soon for his permission, after he talked it over with his own dad, of course.

Sarah would be over the moon about it. It would do her good to focus on something other than her job and her breakup with Jack. Neither were particularly pleasant and it irritated David that he couldn't do anything to resolve either matter. Sarah had made him swear to stay away from her work and the matter with Jack was entirely out of his hands.

He made it back to the Lodge in what felt like record time. No one was outside, so he immediately made his way up to the bunk room and poked his head in. One sweep of the room told him she wasn't there. He was just moving out of the doorway to head up to her and Jack's apartment when Kid Blink called out to him from a nearby bunk.

"Heya, Dave. Ya lookin' for Al?" He swung his legs off the bed and was standing in front of David seconds later. David nodded and Blink continued. "She went out for a walk a lil' ovah half an hour ago. She oughta be back soon. Wanna play a game o' cards with Mush an' me?"

"No, I think I'll just go look for 'er. I'd rather see her now. Thanks for the offer though."

"That's stupid. You're prolly just gonna end up missin' 'er and having to wait longer 'fore you see her."

"Aw, let the Mouth go find 'is goil, Blink," Mush called from where he lay on the top bunk of the bed Blink had just come from. "It's romantic."

Blink rolled his eyes at his good friend and waved a hand at Davy. "Well go on, then. I might as well come help ya look while I'm at it."

"Thanks."

It was Kid Blink who suggested checking out Central Park, though David knew he ought to have known it himself. How many times had he heard Racetrack tease Al for beings so predictable when it came to wandering through the city? She could always be found at Central Park or the docks and rarely anywhere else. David decided they ought to split up if they wanted to make any headway in the search for her.

That was how David found himself quite close to the street where Al was being attacked, even though he didn't know it at the time. In fact, he almost dismissed even wandering down that particular street, because he didn't see her there. However, just as he was turning away, he heard a man's voice. It was indistinct and he only caught "old-fashioned", but it was enough to make him curious. He didn't see anyone on the street, so where was the voice coming from? It might have been nothing, but a sense of foreboding in David's stomach told him to check it out.

He turned the corner onto the street and stepped slowly and lightly, keeping his ears open for any more noises. He was rewarded seconds later by some sort of scuffling noise and a hiss of pain nearby.

When David located the source of the noise, he was greeted with a scene that would be burned into his brain for the rest of his life. Quick Fists was grinning, blood dripping down his face and his hands around the neck of a girl he was straddling. Her hands had just fallen limp to her sides, blood on them as well. Her hair was covering her face, but David knew without hesitation that this was Al on the ground beneath him.

David saw red.

With a howl of pain and anger that sounded otherworldly in his own ears, David ran at the boy currently strangling his girl. He dove at Quick Fists, his hands catching the twenty-four year-old's shoulders and slamming him back onto the hard cement. The older boy cushioned David's fall, but it still knocked the air out of him. There wasn't much to knock out anyway, because he hadn't really managed to breathe since he had laid eyes on Al lying motionless on the ground.

He had lost her.

"You killed her!" David screamed as he jumped to his feet and grabbed Quick Fists by the collar. He landed three solid punches to the older boy's face before he managed to retaliate.

MacIntosh moved quickly. David had to give him that much. One second he was in total control and the next, he was pinned up against a wall with Quick Fists so close to his face that David could smell the blood that dripped from the gashes no doubt made my Al's nails.

"You killed her," David snarled, his voice catching even as he spoke. He could already feel the tears building up behind his eyes as he struggled in Quick Fists' grip.

"Don't tell me. You loved her?" Quick Fists mocked, his voice crooning in David's ear. "She's gone now."

A yell tore itself from David's throat as he pushed off the wall and shoved Quick Fists off of him and into the adjoining one.

"I'll kill you for hurting her," David promised. He would kill Quick Fists if it was the last thing he did. He could still see Al laying motionless to his left and felt bile rise up in his throat. He moved so he wouldn't have to look at her right now and threw a punch at his opponent's gut.

David could hardly focus as he fought. Everything in him wanted to end this maniac in front of him, but everything in him wanted to curl up in a ball and scream at the world. How could it take her away from him like this? _I was gonna marry her!_ he wanted to scream. _I love her!_

It was at that point that he heard a hacking sound come from behind him and he spun around without regard for his own safety, hardly daring to hope he was actually hearing what he thought he was. Al was pushing herself up off the ground, one hand grasping at her throat, which was bright red from her recent strangling. David's breath caught in his throat. He had never been more relieved in his entire life.

A roar from behind him reminded David that he was in the middle of a fight and he spun around just in time to tackle Quick Fists before he could reach Al. The two slammed into a stack of crates that instantly splintered apart under their combined body weight. One glance at the older newsboy's eyes told David he had reached a level of insanity no one had anticipated. That one look told David that this man wouldn't stop hunting Al until she was dead or he was. David realized he would have to end the threat Quick Fists posed to Al's well-being right now. Even if it was the last thing he did.

The two newsboys rolled away from the broken crates, throwing a flurry of punches at one another. David could hear Al trying to scream something, but her voice was too hoarse for him to make it out and he was having enough trouble trying to keep Quick Fists from going at her as it was. It didn't take him to long to realize she trying to warn him about the knife that Quick Fists was now scrambling to get a firm grip on.

David tried to knock the knife away, but failed. Seconds later, he cried out, his back arching underneath the weight of his opponent as the knife pierced his left shoulder. He felt light-headed as he the knife slid out of him. He almost didn't manage to catch the arm that aimed the knife at his face this time.

Quick Fists tried to drive the knife into David's eye, but he caught the arm holding it and pushed against him with all his might. David was at the disadvantage here- unarmed, wounded, and pinned under the weight of a man much larger than himself and six years his senior. David pushed against Quick Fist's arm with both hands as Quick Fists used his left hand to add even more pressure to the weight of the knife. Already, David could feel his arms weakening and nausea built up in his stomach as pain radiated through his body from his shoulder wound.

Then a blur slammed into Quick Fists side and David felt his heart jump into his throat when he realized it was Al who had just tackled him. She had gone straight for the man who had nearly killed her a few minutes ago to save him. David pushed himself off the ground, his heart slamming in his throat as he desperately tried to reach his girl. He saw with relief that the knife had slid once more from Quick Fists' grasp and lay a few feet away. Al looked almost as feral as Quick Fists did as she kneed him in the stomach from her position beneath him.

David struggled to get to his feet and faltered as the pain in his shoulder and in the other various areas he had been hurt threatened to overwhelm him. He wouldn't let that stop him, though. He was just moving to get to Al when Kid Blink shot past him. In all the chaos, David had entirely forgotten that he had come out here with Kid Blink in the first place.

Within seconds, Blink had pulled Quick Fists off of Al and slammed him against the wall, holding the rabid newsboy's own knife to his throat. Already weakened from the fight with both Al and David, he wasn't in much of a condition to fight back.

David forgot his own aches and pains as he saw Al struggle to get to her feet. He moved to her side and let her lean on his good shoulder as they turned to face the man who had attacked them.

"You two okay?" Kid Blink asked, not taking his eyes off the coward he held before him.

"I think so," Al responded, her voice raspy and gravelly. It was nearly unrecognizable. David thought it sounded painful and was proven correct when Al winced after having spoken.

"What are you doin' 'ere?" Blink growled, pressing the knife harder against his throat. "Ya lost. You got no right to be in 'Hattan, much less attack Cap an' Mouth." From this angle, David could see the dangerous glint in Blink's eye. He wondered what exactly the blonde newsboy was planning on doing here.

Quick Fists' eyes had lost the wild look, but the element of insanity hadn't faded from them as he responded. "I won't stop until I've killed that little bitch." He stated it as if it were a fact they all should have known. David had to wonder how he had managed to miss that before this attack.

Blink pushed out a breath and his eyebrow twitched as he pressed his lips together. "I was afraid you was gonna say that."

Before David could so much as bat an eyelash, Kid Blink had plunged the knife into MacIntosh's chest. Quick Fist's body went rigid and his eyes went wide as they locked with Kid Blink's bright blue one. Blink didn't look away. He just looked sadly back at the man he had just stabbed as he pulled the knife back out and plunged it back into him a second time.

David and Al looked on in shock as they watched the life drain from Quick Fists' eyes. He sank to his knees, hands clutching at his chest as blood poured from his wounds. He fell back onto himself and looked sightlessly into the sky.

David couldn't speak. Blink was still holding the knife in his hand. The blood dripped from its tip slowly and methodically until Blink finally dropped it. The clattering noise it produced was startling in its volume. Kid Blink took two steps away and vomited against the wall. Al moved from David's side and moved deliberately toward her old friend. She rubbed circles on his back as he emptied out the contents of his stomach.

When he was finished, Kid Blink wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked up at them, but his eyes appeared dull and unfocused.

"Are you okay?" David asked, now making his way over to the blonde newsboy. He was feeling incredibly lightheaded from the loss of blood and from the shock of what he had just witnessed, but tried to push that out of his mind.

"I had to kill him," Blink muttered, glancing toward the body. "Or he woulda killed you. He woulda. I couldn't let 'im kill you. You gotta understand, I-"

He was cut off by Al pulling him into a hug. "He almost did kill us," she told him quietly. David winced at the sound of her voice, knowing it was causing her pain to speak. "Thank you."

Blink hugged her back and stepped away rubbing at his eyes, trying to swipe the tears away before anyone saw. David looked at his friend in awe. Blink had made a hard choice, but it was the one he thought would keep them safest. David couldn't have more respect for the boy than he did right now.

"We bettah get outta here," Al rasped.

David felt the shock starting to wear off as he moved to close the distance between the two of them. He grasped her by both sides of her face and made her look at him. He focused on the green of her eyes. There was life in them, so much life, and it had almost been taken away from her all in one instant. If he hadn't made it there when he did-

David closed his eyes and choked back a sob as he pulled her into as tight a hug as he dared, not knowing what other bruises or breaks she had acquired in the fight with Quick Fists.

After a few seconds, he felt her pull away gently and let go. Opening his eyes, he felt tears slide from them as she looked down at her. She looked close to tears herself as she reached up to touch his face with one hand.

"I'm fine," she told him, a small smile gracing her beautiful face.

"I almost lost you." His voice breaking as he admitted it.

"You'll nevah lose me.


	21. Can't Stop Me

_**Author's Note: This is it, guys. The final chapter of "How the World Turns". Thank you to everyone who has taken this lovely journey with me, especially those of you who offered your wonderful input in the form or reviews (Like those who reviewed the last chapter: Ealasaid Una, LucyConlon, woundedhearts, Newsies Kraken, JacobsConlonBrooklynNewsie, natalieblack2, mysterygirl, and autumnamberleaves). Y'all have been such a blessing and I've enjoyed writing this immensely.**_

**Chapter 21- Can't Stop Me**

_Oh I swear to you  
><em>_I'll be there for you  
><em>_This is not a drive by  
><em>_~Drive By: Train~_

Jack straightened the bandanna around his neck as he walked back to the Lodge, allowing a smug grin to grace his features. He had just made a visit to a certain Mr. Willet. After hearing about the way he had been treating Sarah, Jack just couldn't get the ordeal out of his mind, so he decided to amend the problem. Just because he wasn't with Sarah anymore didn't mean that some bastard was allowed to boss her around like that. Therefore, Jack had decided to have a little talk with this Mr. Willet. Sarah wouldn't have to worry about being verbally abused by him any longer. Under all the bravado, there was one thing similar in almost every bully Jack had every come in contact with - they were always cowards.

He ran into Mush a street away from the Lodge.

"Heya, Jack. How's it rollin'?"

"Doin' good, Mush. An' yourself?"

Before he could answer, though, he spotted a bedraggled-looking trio making their way toward them from the other end of the street. It only took a second for him to recognize his sister, David, and Kid Blink. David was leaning heavily on Blink and Al was walking with a limp again. It seemed like just yesterday she had finally removed the stitches from she and David's legs and stopped limping. Now she was at it again and, from the looks of it, the cause was a particularly intense fight.

Mush noticed them at the same time Jack did and ran for their friends.

As he got closer, he noticed the bruising and the blood. Just like with Al's limping, it seemed like Al and David's bruises had only just cleared up after having been jumped by Quick Fist's boys. Now Al had a purplish bruise forming on her forehead under her matted hair and another was forming on her chin, but it was nothing compared to the bruising on her neck. The bruising there was already so dark that it almost looked black. Jack almost didn't notice David's injuries because he was so fixated on his sister's wounds, but that quickly changed when he noticed the dark patch of blood soaking through the left side of his shirt.

"What the hell happened to the two of ya?" Jack asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Let's get inside," Blink almost commanded before anyone could respond.

Jack, unaccustomed to hearing Kid Blink order around anyone other than the younger boys or Mush, simply nodded and helped his sister head toward the Lodge. Now that he wasn't so distracted by her neck and David's shoulder, he saw the sizable horizontal slit in the knee of her skirt and that there was a bit of blood on it. He could see more on her shoe.

By the time they made it inside, Jack was simply bursting with questions. This time, they went up to Jack and Al's apartment, per David's insistence.

"Mush, get the foist aid stuff," Al requested. Her voice was deep and grainy. She coughed and it sounded so painful that Jack wished she wouldn't.

"Sure thing."

When they reached their living space. Al silently directed Blink to help David lay down on the couch. David started to protest, but one particularly fierce look from Al silenced him. Jack put water on the stove, heating it the way Al always had someone do when there was an injury that required cleaning. He wasn't sure why she needed it warm, but assumed she knew what she was doing. Then he grabbed a glass of water for Al, David, and Blink, assuming they would need it.

Mush came in and handed Al the medical kit. She started rummaging through it as Jack asked the million-dollar question:

"What happened?"

"Quick Fists tried to kill 'er," David said, grimacing as Al helped him out of his shirt. He looked angry and upset, almost scared, as he said it. "I found 'im strangling her in a back alley. He almost killed her, Jack. She was almost gone." Jack saw the fear in David's eyes as he said it and he felt his own heart stop as his words sunk in. Jack felt himself start to shake as the anger boiled up inside him. Just the thought of losing his little sister was beyond unbearable.

"David!" Les burst in the door, followed by an apologetic-looking Boots. Jack could just see Runner peeking around from behind him, his curiosity winning out over his knowledge that he wasn't supposed to be here.

"I tried to stop 'im," Boots said as Les made a beeline for Al and David. Jack tried to calm his expression as he realized that Boots mistakenly thought Jack was directing his anger at him.

"You're all bloody! What happened?" His eyes shifted from David to Al and grew wide as saucers when they landed on the bruising around her neck. "You got hurt again." His voice sounded small and scared. Jack had never seen Les look so vulnerable. He reached out and touched a finger to Al's neck. He touched it gently and Al did her best not to flinch away. Jack watched the boy's eyes fill with tears.

David smiled at his younger brother trying to play it off. "Yeah, but we won this time, bud. You don't have to worry, it's not too bad."

Les raised both eyebrows as he looked again from David's shoulder, which was clearly a knife wound, to the angry strangulation bruises around Al's neck. He opened his mouth to say something when Jack interrupted.

"Les, Davy's gonna be fine. So's Al," Jack told him, coming around the other side of the sofa and moving toward the door. He motioned for Les to join him and he reluctantly obeyed after Al planted a kiss on the top of his head and mussed up his hair. Jack slung an arm around his shoulder when he came near. "Now we gotta talk about some important stuff. Soon as we're done, you can come sit with Davy an' Al all you want, alright?"

Les hesitated for a long moment, throwing a glance back to his brother. Finally, he nodded and, with a little more coaxing, followed Boots and Runner down to the Lodge.

Jack shut the door and turned back to the others, returning the conversation back to it's former topic. "I'll kill 'im. Where is he?"

"You don't have to," Blink cut in, sounding both resigned and serious. "I already did."

Mush and Jack swiveled their heads toward him so quickly that Jack heard his own neck pop.

"What?"

"There wasn't any other choice," David answered for him as Al stood to wash her hands and get the boiling water from the stovetop. "He was gonna kill her. He wasn't gonna stop hunting her until 'e succeeded."

Kid Blink looked away while Mush and Jack processed this information. It wasn't until Al limped back into the room that he turned back toward them. "I gotta get outta town."

"They can't tie ya to it," Al croaked as she started to clean David's wound. He hissed in pain. "No one saw."

"Al's right," Mush quickly added. "Besides, David said this was in a back alley. It could be weeks 'fore they even find the body."

Jack saw Blink grimace at the use of the word "body".

"No, Blink's right," he regretfully agreed. "You can't be certain no one saw. What happens if they did or someone finds out an' the bulls take Blink away. He wouldn't go to the Refuge, he'd go to the state penitentiary." The weight of the words hung in the air for a moment and even caused Al to pause and bite her lower lip. He knew she would blame herself for letting Blink kill him and get himself in this mess.

She resumed her work, grabbing a bottle of disinfectant and readying a towel. "Jack, grab 'is hand an' let him squeeze hard as he can." He obeyed and she turned to David, looking apologetic. "This is gonna hoit a bit."

She positioned the towel a few inches beneath the wound and poured a liberal amount of disinfectant over the cut. David's eyes went wide and he grit his teeth. His back arched and Jack felt the pressure bear down on his hand and was forced to squeeze back to keep his friend from breaking his hand. Al dabbed at the cut as David's body relaxed and she kissed him on the temple. She pulled a small bottle of whiskey out the basket and had David take a swig to dull the pain a bit.

"I'm sorry, hon. I know," she murmured as she worked.

"Fact of it is, I'm a murderah. I gotta get out o' the city and go to Chicago or somethin'. How much does a ticket there cost?"

"You're not a murderah, Blink," Al rebuked him firmly, turning to look him directly in the eye. Her voice continued to rasp in a way that made it almost painful to hear. "Murdah is when you kill for fun or out of revenge. Murdah was what he was gonna do. You killed 'im, but ya didn't murder 'im." She coughed and her expression and tone softened. "And don't you worry about what it costs." She looked back to needle she was now preparing. "We're gonna pay for the ticket." Then to David, "This is gonna hoit a bit, too."

"No, you-"

"She's right," David answered. "You're gonna need all your-" He hissed as the needle entered his skin and grit his teeth as he continued. "-money to start a new life over there."

"We'll all chip in," Jack picked up. "You desoive it. You saved my sistah's life an', from the looks of it, Davy's too."

Kid Blink allowed himself a little smile.

"I'm coming with you," Mush announced resolutely.

"What?" The smile faded from Blink's lips immediately.

"No one should 'ave to face movin' to a big city by themselves."

"No, you got a life here an' a goil. I can't let you do that."

"You can't stop me."

Jack saw a level of stubbornness he had never before seen in Mush emerge in the boy's dark eyes. He raised an eyebrow at Blink as if daring him to challenge the validity of his words.

"You're the closest thing to a brother I got," Mush continued when he saw that Blink wouldn't contest him again. "I ain't lettin' you go off by yourself."

Blink didn't allow himself to smile this time, but Jack thought he saw a little bit of the hope he seemed to have lost return to his friend.

Three hours later, the details had all been ironed out and both David and Al had been all patched up. The boys would leave early in the morning, using the money given them from Al, David, Jack, and Racetrack (who had been informed and brought into the circle upon his arrival back at the Lodge, due to his status as Jack's second-in-command) for tickets. They didn't have many possessions, so packing wasn't much of an issue, but Al had cried when they retired to bed. They had decided to do their goodbyes tonight instead of in the morning, not wanting to wake anyone else up or answer any questions about why they were leaving or where they were headed. The less anyone knew about the anything involving Quick Fists' final attack, the better.

Now everyone in the Lodge was fast asleep. David was crashed on their couch for the night after Les had gone home and informed his family that his brother was recovering from a particularly nasty fight, but he would be fine. Jack had opted to sleep on the floor by the couch, but ended up going to the roof when restlessness overtook him. Now he stood, looking over the Manhattan skyline with a strange mixture of peace and restlessness warring within him.

Jack sighed and lit up a cigarette, coughing when he breathed in the first drag too quickly. He held it out and stared at the orange glow.

"Couldn't sleep?" Al asked, coming up beside him. He spared her a sideways glance and saw that she was wearing his jacket over her nightgown and holding a glass of water in her hand. Her voice still sounded a bit raw, but it was better than it had been a few hours ago. It didn't make him wince anymore upon hearing it, though it did give him the strange urge to cough.

"You feelin' alright?" he questioned in response.

She threw him an irritated look, as she always did when someone answered a question with another question. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a lil' sore. You okay?"

He nodded and looked back over the skyline. "I'm just glad he's gone."

"Me too," she agreed, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I just wish Blink an' Mush didn't have to go."

Jack agreed.

They stood there in a comfortable silence for the next few minutes. Jack let his mind wander. He was glad that they didn't have to worry about Quick Fists any longer. He couldn't pose a threat to anyone he held dear ever again. That was a huge relief and it gave him the ability to focus on more important things like training Runner and taking care of his sister.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

There was a pause as if Al was looking for the right words to say. "Now that everything's calmed down, d'ya think you'n Sarah are gonna get back togethah?" She asked it tentatively and Jack appreciated her concern. She was afraid that she might be hurting him by asking that question. In all honesty, thinking about Sarah did hurt, but not so much that he felt he couldn't respond. Al had the right to ask him and deserved an answer.

"I don't think so, Al," he answered truthfully. "I ain't ready for that right now. And it ain't fair to 'er."

Al nodded against his shoulder and he moved to wrap his arm around her while took another puff of his cigarette.

"'Cause you're gonna leave." It wasn't a question, but a somewhat timid statement. They both knew it was true, but she obviously didn't like saying it aloud.

"'Cause I'm gonna leave," he repeated, almost quieter than she had. "But I'll stick around here for a while. Wait 'til things're calm. I can't miss Mags an' Skittery's weddin'. An' I can't miss yours." She threw him a playful glare. "Plus, Runner's still too young to run things without me."

"An' there ain't no way in hell I'm takin' ovah again," Al chuckled.

Jack laughed and gave his sister's shoulders a slight squeeze.

"I don't want you to go," she admitted quietly. Jack felt a pang in his chest as she said it. "But I want you to be happy an' you nevah will be if ya don't follow your dream."

Jack nodded. "I don't wanna leave you eithah. It scares me. We been togethah for so long, always watchin' each other's backs… But I gotta."

"I understand."

"It's funny how the world toins, ya know? I don't wanna stay and I don't wanna go." He took a deep breath of the cold October air. "You know that no mattah how far away I am, you'll always have me. You know that, right?"

"Of course, Jack," Al answered. She coughed and took a sip of water before standing up on her toes and planting a kiss on his cheek. "You know that you're the best brother I could evah ask for, right?"

Jack didn't answer, feeling like he really wasn't worthy of that title, but a smile blossomed on his face nonetheless.

THE END.

_**A/N: And that's the end of "How the World Turns". I hope y'all enjoyed the ride. :)**_

_**Now for the announcement about the next sequel-**_

_**I've decided that I'm going to give y'all a release date for this one, basically so that y'all can expect a concrete date on which you can find the first chapter of the final part of the More Than Blood trilogy. I want to give myself plenty of time between now and then to get the plot line fleshed out as well as get a couple of chapters written. I figured choosing a date would not only spur me on to work harder, but keep y'all from wondering if I've died in the meantime. I'm really excited about this sequel and hope y'all are too.**_

_**So, the release date is *drumroll please* May 21st!**_

_**Unfortunately, I haven't written enough of the final installation that I have a snippet to show you, so I'll give you a short summary instead.**_

_When Al opened the door, it was Racetrack who stood before her. His clothes were ratty and torn, his face covered in bruises, and her heightened sense of smell made her feel like she had been hit by a wall of body odor. She threw a hand over her mouth and nose, half out of surprise at finding her old friend on her doorstep and half to plug her nose so her stomach would stop doing flips due to the stench. _

_"Race?"_

_"I didn't know where else to go." He barely finished the sentence before pitching forward into Al's unsuspecting arms. She barely had time to catch him and struggled with the dead weight of his body._

_"LES! Les, a lil' help, please!" she yelled._

_Les came bounding into the room and upon seeing the scene before him, immediately relieved his very pregnant sister-in-law of the unconscious Italian. He slung one of Race's arms around his shoulder before wrapping his right arm around Race's ribs. "Where do you want me to put 'im?" _

_"Sofa," Al answered, subconsciously rubbing her belly as she closed the front door and locked it just to be safe. She followed Les into the living room where he was laying their old friend down. _

_"What the hell happened to 'im?" the sixteen-year-old asked, rubbing the back of his neck the way his older brother so often did._

_"I dunno, Les, but I wager we'll find out soon enough."_


End file.
